Best Imitation of Myself
by solojones
Summary: Barney Stinson has always been good at putting on a show. But it's becoming harder and harder to hide his true feelings from Robin. Season 4, sometime after "The Front Porch" . Barney/Robin. Introspective character study of Barney and kind of angsty.
1. Chapter 1

Note: This is my first HIMYM fic and I've been out of fic writing for a while, so I'm rusty. The title of this story and the lyrics throughout are from the Ben Folds Five song of the same name. It's one of my all-time favourites, and I thought it had "Barney" written all over it. Enjoy.

* * *

_I feel like a quote out of context, withholding the rest so I can be for you what you want to see. I've got the gesture and sounds, got the timing down. It's uncanny. Yeah, you'd think it was me._

Barney Stinson was good at reading people. It was something he prided himself on, a natural talent he'd honed into an art. And, true, it came in handy for dodging questions about activities that might, in certain countries, be considered _minor_ acts of espionage. But that was more of a beneficial side-effect. No, the real point of reading people was to be able to play right into their hands. Particularly women's hands. Preferably their well-manicured, long-enough-nails-to-leave-scratch-marks hands. Yeah.

Yes, Barney knew what people wanted to hear from him. Or, in the case of his friends, expected to hear from him at this point. Knew what put them at ease, not to mention what set them on edge to hear coming from him. That, he'd learned all too well in the past year. So even as he found himself sitting alone across from Robin, a situation that frankly made him a little queasy in a way totally unrelated to what he'd recently had to eat or drink, Barney was practiced enough to know exactly what would keep her from noticing.

"I'll have an Aberlour 12 year with ginger ale," he said, leaning back casually in the booth as Wendy nodded and headed back towards the bar. He let his eyes roam the room a little, knowing Robin would assume he was on the lookout for bimbos and would never guess he was avoiding staring too deliberately at her neck.

"You know Barney, there's something I've always wondered about you," Robin mused. His eyes drifted back to her with practiced nonchalance.

"Yes, I'm a natural blonde," he cut in. "But you should remember that." He winked purposefully. It got the expected eye roll.

Continuing as though he hadn't spoken, Robin asked, "How is it that someone who claims to be such a Scotch aficionado always orders their single malts with ice or soda or, God forbid, _Red Bull_?"

The real reasons ran through his mind. Drinking Scotch had seemed like an appropriately manly and awesome thing to add to his post-Shannon persona. Unfortunately, the first time he'd tried Scotch straight, his throat and chest felt somewhat like a bog on fire. And it tasted a little like it, too. He'd found adding something to the Scotch helped mellow it out. It had enabled him to pretend to like it long enough for him to actually grow to like it. But still, only diluted.

Which is what a real person might have said in response. But he had read Robin clearly on this, and not just tonight. She had practically screamed it herself during that awkward semi-date they'd had months ago. She didn't want him to be a real person. She wanted him to be _Barney_.

It took him only a split-second to add this all up. "Oh. Ohhh-ho!" Barney crowed with exaggerated indignation. "That's rich coming from miss _Johnnie Walker._" He snorted. Wendy arrived with the tray, perfect timing for him to grab his drink and use it as a prop for dramatic gesticulation. "Seriously, if you're gonna drink a blended Scotch, you might as well just drink moonshine made in a hollowed-out pumpkin in a barn loft. Please." He punctuated his point with a sip of his awesome drink.

Robin, encouraged by his own antics, increased her volume a little. "At least I take mine neat!" She countered, sitting forward. "You're saying cheaper, less snobby Scotch is horrible, but Scotch mixed with ginger ale is okay?"

Ah, a perfect opportunity for pontification. Classic. "Robin, in my travels around the world, I have seen and tasted the delicacies of many lands. And not just the ladies." He nodded and grinned broadly, proud of the grimace this elicited from Robin. "And I have concluded that a single malt Scotch is just one of those drinks that is totally awesome on its own, but happens to be even more awesome when combined with another awesome drink. Call me crazy, but I think a good ginger ale can make a Scotch even Scotchier."

He had to bite his cheek to keep himself from remarking that maybe she was _his_ ginger ale. Wait, where had _that_ come from? His face twitched a little and he covered it with a cough. I mean, _really?_ That was an uncharacteristically Ted-like analogy for his mind to betray him and make.

Robin shook her head, finishing her sip of beer before replying, "Doesn't this go against your whole theory of how all mixed drinks are inherently girly because the complete integration of two drinks is just a projection of the female desire for marriage? Why would mixed Scotch drinks be an exception?"

"It just tastes better that way," he muttered, sounding a little like a grumpy child. Fortunately, his mouth was already closing in around his glass for another drink, muffling his words.

Robin's eyes narrowed slightly in a manner that suggested she knew he'd said something that might be incriminating. But she let it slide, along with the underlying implication she apparently didn't realize was there. Thankfully.

"I'm just saying," Robin said with a shrug, "to me Scotch is one of those drinks that doesn't mix well with others, you know? It's like if you mix it, it's just not _Scotch _anymore."

He paused, his glass perched on the edge of his lips for another sip. His hand sank a little as he peered over the edge of the glass at Robin. The glimmer faded from Barney's eyes. He could feel it happening, against his will. He took a deliberate gulp of his drink, savoring the fiery-sweet flavor. Robin must have noticed, because she made a little face of mock disgust at his enjoyment of the bastardized version of the drink.

Or maybe she could see _the look_ drifting into his eyes. Suddenly the alarm bells went off in his brain, the ones that usually told him a girl he was chatting up was about to figure out he was not actually a world renowned fencer or the owner of Sea World. It was only a tiny change in Robin's expression, but that was all it took. He was, after all, very good.

Barney subtly made a face as he looked down at his drink. A calculated hint of dissatisfaction at this obviously inferior, girly, Teddish drink. Just enough of a show that he knew Robin would catch it. He gave her a look that said, "okay, maybe you were right. This is an inferior drink, but I'm not going to admit it." She totally bought it. When she took another sip of her beer, she raised one eyebrow in victory.

Outwardly, he kept up his bravado. Privately, he vowed to order his Scotch neat around her from now on. Guess that uncomfortable burn in his chest was something he'd get used to. At least now he could lie and tell himself it was just the Scotch.

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(more to come…)


	2. Chapter 2

Note: Well, I hope someone is reading, even though there were no reviews of the first chapter… anyway, this one's a lot longer and is starting to get into the plot elements of this story. It's also my first attempt at writing the whole gang, so I hope it worked.

Work had run far too late for any night, in Barney's opinion. Sometimes he swore their foreign counterparts had no respect for the great American virtues of slacking off and paper pushing. They expected him to actually _do_ something when all he could think about were all the 22 year olds being snatched out of the bars by the minute.

And that was _all_ he was thinking about. As he swung into MacLaren's at half past nine, Barney most certainly was not thinking about how beautiful Robin looked in the soft, low lights. She was seated across from Marshall and Lily, with Ted in the chair at the end. Which left the bench next to her unoccupied.

Of course, he reminded himself, after the embarrassing number of feelings he'd experienced during their conversation about Scotch a couple nights before, maybe he shouldn't sit next to her. Maybe that would be too obvious. She'd reinforced just how hopeless any pursuit of her would be. That would have been easy for anyone to read. So why wouldn't Barney's damn mind just move on? Well, if it wouldn't do the work for him, he'd just have to let his dual awesome glands take over instead. He would sit next to Robin. He would do whatever he pleased, and no one was going to suspect anything was wrong. Because nothing was. All he had to do was be his usual self, and they'd see what they wanted to see in it anyway.

Summoning his swagger, Barney strolled over to the booth and plopped down next to Robin, loosening his tie as he did. He never glanced at Robin, never gave any indication he even noticed her there. Instead, he sighed, "You will never believe the conference call I just got out of."

"Barney," Robin began.

But he wasn't about to give her a right to interrupt him that he wouldn't grant to anyone else. He continued, "I mean, not that I can really tell you about it, but let's just say it involved a certain Southeast Asian nation that may or may not be the setting of a beloved sitcom about doctors in the-"

"Barney!" Lily cut in, loud enough to actually stop him. She nodded and directed her eyes upward.

Barney looked up to see a rugged, George-Clooney wanabee type man standing beside the table. And he was actually wearing a shirt with a _grass-stain_ on it. "Um, can I help you?" Barney asked in a slow, dismayed tone, the kind he used when homeless people stared at him expecting spare change or a sandwich.

"Uh, Barney," Ted said, clearing his throat. "You're in his seat."

For a moment, Barney just continued to stare. Then he looked over at Robin, who was eyeing him with a look that said _can you move now, dipshit?_ And it clicked. This must be the new boyfriend she'd mentioned off-handedly for the last week or so. Barney sighed in exasperation as he stood up, making it clear the effort of standing was the source of his frustration, and leaving no room for speculation that he wasn't too happy about moving out of the way for Robin's date. The other man was apparently determined to make things awkward anyway, however, and remained standing next to Barney.

"This is Alistair," Robin provided, trying to urge a formal introduction.

Barney glanced at the table with a raised eyebrow. "Alistair. Really? What kind of a- ow!" He felt a sharp pain in his shin from someone kicking him. It only took one look at Ted, with that forced innocent face, to know it had been him. Still, maybe Ted was inadvertently right. There was a way to go about this that would fit with Barney's expected brand of court jester jackass antics. Barney put on his best friendly smile and continued, "I mean, what kind of a lovely family comes up with a name like that?"

Alistair relaxed a little, allowing himself a smile as the moment of tension passed. "An Australian one. I'm from Melbourne."

"He's a rugby player," Robin said, beaming with unmistakeable lust. A lesser man might not have been able to control the twitch in his face, but Barney was the master. He gave no hint of how much he already wanted to punch this douche bag in the mouth. Of course, that would probably only give him a bruise which would in turn make Robin even more irrationally attracted to his supposed manliness. Whatever.

Instead, Barney just smiled wider and extended a hand to Alistair. "Well isn't that great. I'm Barnaby Stinson, by the way." As he shook the man's hand, he glanced around the table to make sure his friends saw his self-satisfied smile at his own joke. Marshall chuckled, Lily and Ted shook their heads, and Robin sighed. All in all, a fairly typical response to the Barney show.

"Nice to meet you, Barnaby," Alistair replied with a little bit of hesitance, realizing he was missing something but not quite able to put the pieces together. Clearly not the sharpest tool in the shed.

"And you, too. Say, isn't it great having names that are so unpretentious and have a completely reasonable number of syllables?" Barney said, smirk still fixed firmly in place.

"Uh, sure," Alistair replied, looking more and more confused.

"Just ignore him," Robin said, throwing an annoyed glance at Barney before pulling Alistair down into the booth next to her. They shared an affectionate smile that made the bile in Barney's stomach rise.

He made a show out of not paying attention to it, though, and instead looked around for another extra chair. Unfortunately, all the tables nearby were full at the moment. So instead, Barney nudged Lily. "Scoot over." A statement, not a request.

"Ohhh no," Lily replied firmly, "I am not going to have your bony little elbows and hips digging into my side." Seeing the lecherous grin on Barney's face and anticipating his comment before he even opened his mouth, she added a curt, "Don't even say it." His face fell like a kid who'd had his hand swatted away from the cookie jar.

"Okay, but seriously, where am I supposed to sit?" Barney asked. His friends looked at each other for a beat, then back at him, and seemed to reach a unanimous verdict.

"Yeah, the thing is, we don't really care," Ted said, extra-chipper about the chance to annoy Barney. Which was fair enough, Barney reasoned. Their using him as their punching bag was a necessary part of the routine. Ted turned from his friend to the disgustingly tanned man sitting too close to Robin. "So Alistair. You were telling us about the outback."

"Well, there's not that much to tell. It's not like we city folk get out there all that often. I do have an uncle who works on a national preserve, though, so we used to go visit him." Barney noticed everyone leaning in slowly as Alistair spoke. Barney, meanwhile, had resigned himself to standing somewhat awkwardly between Lily and Ted.

"Did you see any snakes?" Marshall asked, excited. "Because you know, Australia has nine of the world's ten most poisonous species."

"Technically," Ted interjected, "they're _venomous_ snakes."

Everyone was prepared to glare at Ted's correcting, except that Alistair jumped in. "That's right, actually. Venom is from a bite. They're only poisonous if you get the toxin by eating them."

Ted sat up straighter. "Yes, thank you Alistair for that astute observation," he said smugly.

"Oh, God," Barney exclaimed in dramatic disgust at Ted's pretension. He fully expected his other friends to agree. That was how this exchange was supposed to go.

But to his great surprise, Lily jumped in with, "Okay this time Ted happens to be right. I mean, we have to trust Alistair on this. It's his country, after all." She sounded a little too perky and smiled at Alistair in a manner reminiscent of a high school freshman with a crush on the captain of the football team.

"It's not as exotic as it seems," Alistair insisted. He was being modest. And, worse, he was _sincere_ about it. Barney realized he may have underestimated how hard he was going to have to try to maintain his clown persona and keep from just kneeing this guy in the groin instead.

One thing was certain. Barney couldn't look at this ruffian any longer (or at Robin's hand on his arm and the glimmer in her eye as she stared at him) without consuming alcohol. "Wendy," he started to call out, turning around towards the bar. "Ah!" he exclaimed, jumping backwards as he saw the waitress standing right beside him.

"Brought you your usual," Wendy said cheerfully. "Scotch and Soda." She held the glass out to Barney, and he stared at it as if it were one of those venomous snakes Marshall was so interested in.

"No! I don't want it!" he yelled, a little louder than he'd meant to. The group was now staring at him, slack-jawed. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Robin looking particularly curious at this sudden outburst. He hoped she wouldn't remember their recent conversation about his drink choices. He needed a way to cover. Clearing his throat, Barney turned back to Wendy and said in a forced, cool voice, "I mean… neat. I'll have mine neat. Tell Carl to bring it. I'm a little tired of your incompetence. "

"Sorry…" Wendy replied slowly, turning away in confusion.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Barney's face fell into a panicked expression. "Did you guys see that? I told you she was trying to poison me!" He rubbed one hand over his stomach nervously. Not entirely a show. After all, Wendy _had_ tried to poison him before, and was it crazy to be cautious?

"For the last time, Barney, Wendy the waitress is not trying to kill you," Lily insisted.

"You're killing the bar again, Barney," Ted said tightly, giving him a threatening glance.

"Don't kill the bar again, Barney," Marshall added sternly.

Carl nudged Barney in the arm and handed him a drink. "Here's your Scotch. You sure you don't at least want that on the rocks, man?"

"No. No, I do not. I want this Scotch in its pure, undilutedly awesome form," Barney declared, his eyes briefly darting to Robin. To prove his point, he took a generous gulp. The burning in his nostrils was surprisingly intense, and floated all the way down to his stomach. "See, delicious," Barney croaked.

Carl, unable to be phased by anything Barney did anymore, just shrugged it off. "Whatever," he said, heading back to the counter.

Alistair shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I get the feeling I'm missing something here," he ventured, looking around the group then settling his gaze on Robin.

Robin explained matter-of-factly, "Barney had sex with Wendy the waitress once-"

"Um, try three times," Barney corrected. "This bar's a big place, you know. Had to try out more locations than just behind the bar."

"Please don't tell us where," Ted begged.

Barney said nothing, but his eyes drifted towards Marshall and Lily's side of the booth. After a moment of silence, Lily exclaimed, "Ew! In our booth? That's so gross."

"Please," Barney said, rolling his eyes, "it's not any grosser than doing it in your bed."

Marshall and Lily both grew pale and exchanged stunned glances. "You've had sex _in our bed?_" Marshall practically yelled.

"I did no such thing!" Barney replied, offended. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned that. It was a useful bit of distraction, but then again, he didn't really want them to know he still had a key to their apartment. It was, after all, really useful when they were out of town.

"I think the point Robin was trying to make," Ted told Alistair, "is that Barney is a sleazebag and you should probably just ignore him." He smiled to punctuate his point. Barney tried to look offended, but couldn't really muster that much indignity at Ted's words.

But his false indignation quickly began turning into something else when Robin spoke up. "He thinks just because he had sex with this woman one time that she would care about it enough to obsess over him. Like sleeping with _Barney Stinson_ would have to be some life-changing experience."

As the Scotch burned its way through Barney's chest, his eyes connected with Robin's. For just an instant, the smug veil over his expression slipped away. He couldn't help but recall the look in Robin's eyes just before she'd grabbed his tie and pulled him into a deep kiss that fateful night a year earlier. Despite the naked pain that flashed over Barney's face, Robin's eyes remained fixed in a challenging stare. He could tell that she wasn't even thinking about that night. Which, in a way, made it worse, realizing she really _had_ forgotten all about it. She finished with, "It's never occurred to him that maybe it just wasn't that important to her."

Barney glanced away, but unfortunately caught Lily giving him a sympathetic look. Which only made him throw the imitation of good old jackass Barney immediately back into high gear. He scoffed a little louder than was necessary. "Please." He couldn't quite think of any clever comments to add. Shit. He really needed to stop looking at Robin if this forced mask was going to stay in place. He took a large gulp of his Scotch and did his best to ignore the tingling feeling working its way up his sinuses to make his eyes water.

A silence settled over the group, and Barney was sure as hell not going to be the one to break it. He didn't dare look back at Lily for help, either. So he stared at the ground as if it were the most interesting pattern he'd ever seen. Lame, he knew, but it was taking surprisingly long for his awesomeness algorithm to reboot itself.

Fortunately, for once, Alistair did something right. "Ah, so you all have been so great," he cut in, clearing his throat to break the awkwardness. "Let me get the next round."

"I'll help you carry," Ted offered, following Alistair towards the bar.

Seeing his opportunity, Barney quickly slid into Ted's vacated chair. "Finally. My legs were killing me almost as much as Crocodile Dundee's fake smile."

"How is comparing someone to one of the manliest guys in the universe even remotely insulting?" Marshall asked.

Barney's forehead crinkled in confusion, but before he could say anything, Robin added, "Seriously, what is your problem with Alistair? He's genuinely nice and for God's sakes, he plays _rugby_." Her voice sounded wistful there at the end. Disgusting on any occasion, but especially annoying now. Even the old Barney would have thought so, giving present Barney license to scoff at the statement.

But even Lily was on their side. "Robin's got a point, Barney. Maybe you should lay off the guy," she said. He thought he heard her telepathically add, _and you're acting like a jealous kid. That's not the way to impress Robin_.

Barney thought he was doing just fine at keeping his emotions in check. Robin, at least, was buying into the ruse and obviously as long as he let himself be the butt of their jokes, it would continue to keep her from seeing him as anything more than the nerdy kid to slam into his locker. He had learned over the years that, in an odd way, the more attention he drew to himself, the less his friends saw of him.

So Barney launched into another rant. "Oh, come on. It's the accent. He's drawn you into his web with it. And it's a weird, upside-down web where mammals lay eggs and the toilets flush the wrong direction."

"It is not just his accent! We like him for who he is!" Lily exclaimed defensively. Everyone looked at her suspiciously, and she made an innocent face and sipped at her beer.

After a beat of staring at Lily, Barney continued. "Come on, guys. Everyone knows that any having accent besides General American and Jersey mobster doubles your chances of getting laid by any given chick." He nodded, sure of his assessment. He'd tested it in a rigorously scientific manner. The others didn't look convinced. "Oh, you don't believe me? Fine. Pick any accent, even one you don't think is very attractive."

"Russian," Marshall chimed in. "It's all nasally and whiny. No one likes that accent."

Barney straightened his tie and stood up. "I accept your challenge," he said in what he believed to be an awesome Russian accent. The others didn't look quite as convinced, but really, like they could possibly know more about Eastern Europe than he did.

Rubbing his hands together in delight, he looked around a moment before picking a target: a tall, slender woman with dark hair standing near the jukebox. Barney casually strolled over to her and leaned one arm against the wall. "Excuse me," he said, laying on the accent thickly, "I am making my first visit to America, and I want to tell you what we hear about the loveliness of its people is very true for you."

The woman went from serenely beautiful to furious in an instant. "_Haista paska, venäläinen sika_!" she shouted, slapping him so hard it left a bright red streak across his left cheek.

Barney shook his head to clear the small dots appearing before his eyes. Moving his jaw around and rubbing his face, he turned and headed back towards the table. Marshall, Lily, and Robin were all laughing, while Alistair and Ted, who had returned with fresh drinks, looked confused.

"Okay, so turns out that chick was Finnish," Barney explained as he stepped up to the booth. "Note to self: deep-seated hatred of one country towards another overrides hotness factor of accent. I'll have to include that in my lab report."

"I don't want to know, do I?" Ted asked the others.

"Not worth explaining," Marshall replied. Turning to Alistair, he asked enthusiastically, "Okay, so back to this uncle who works in the Outback… Does he carry a really big knife? For fending off crocodiles? Or Koalas. I hear those are actually really mean."

Barney held out his hands, gesturing from his standing position out over the whole table. "Woah, woah, wait. Before we jump back into _The Rescuers Down Under_, isn't anyone going to ask why I'm here tonight?"

"You're always here," Robin stated plainly.

"I'm glad you asked, Robin," Barney said, continuing with increasing showmanship. "The reason I am gracing you all with my presence this evening is that I have something to give you."

"Is it candy?" Marshall asked, turning to Lily. "I hope it's candy."

"We know, baby," Lily said, patting his arm.

"No, Marshall. It's not something trivial and juvenile," Barney replied dismissively. "But behold." Barney waved his arms dramatically, and with a puff of smoke and some deft slide of hand, magically produced four cards with printed information on them. "Your invitations to my magically awesome birthday party, this Friday night." The others looked surprised and maybe a little worried. Barney's face fell a little. "Don't tell me you guys forgot it was my birthday."

They exchanged glances. Finally, Marshall spoke up. "Barney, you've never told us when your birthday was. And frankly, I don't think I'm alone when I say that, until we met your mom, we kind of assumed you'd arrived on earth in some sort of meteor shower."

Barney sighed. "I've never told you because my parties are usually too awesome for people as lame as you guys to appreciate. But this year, I'm cutting you some slack. Here." Barney handed the invitation cards out to his friends, smiling gleefully. This excitement, he didn't have to fake.

"Featuring the magic of Barney Stinson," Lily read off her card.

"You're performing magic tricks at your own party?" Ted asked, grinning in that way that said 'you've got to be kidding'.

"If it's going to be the best birthday ever, do you think I would rent it out to some teenaged hack with a couple of fake rubber thumbs?" Barney asked incredulously.

"Well," Alistair offered cheerfully, "I think it's a unique hobby."

"Dude," Barney said, glaring down at the perfectly square-jawed man. "Not. Invited." Alistair's face fell, taken aback by the refusal of good will.

Robin crinkled her nose as she looked more carefully at her invitation. "Barney… is this party at _my_ apartment?"

"No, Robin. It's at _Ted's_ apartment," Barney corrected. "You can stay in your room if you don't want to come."

"I never agreed to that," Ted said. "And I'm not really sure I want to host a party where the guests are asked to 'bring at least one hot chick as a present'," he read.

"Thanks guys, I knew you'd be up for it," Barney said, slapping Ted on the back and turning towards the door.

"Wait, where are you going?" Robin asked.

Barney couldn't help the little tingle that rose up from his toes, the satisfaction it gave him to think that maybe she was disappointed to see him leave. But he kept his smug face firmly in place. "Uh, to practice? Great shows don't just happen on their own." Deciding to add emphasis to his swagger, Barney swiped his glass of Scotch off the table and downed the rest in one gulp. It took a lot of energy to keep himself from coughing. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." With that, he turned neatly on one heel and strode out of the bar.


	3. Chapter 3

_Now if it's all the same, I've people to entertain._

_You know I juggle one-handed, do some magic tricks and_

_the best imitation of myself._

It wasn't often that Barney got to use two sets of handcuffs in a manner that could be considered appropriate for a public space. But such was the beauty of magic. That was how he found himself standing with his arms wrapped around a cute little brunette and hers wrapped around him, each cuffed and unable to untangle themselves. "Oh no," he said, glancing around the room at the people who were watching. The other party-goers were mulling around in small groups throughout the apartment. "How did we get ourselves in this situation. And more importantly," he glanced down at the woman in his arms, quirked an eyebrow at her, "do we even want to try to get out."

"I don't know," the little brunette mused, shifting in Barney's embrace to get closer to his ear. "In this position it might be hard to…" she smiled devilishly, then whispered something entirely inappropriate and wonderful in his ear.

Barney couldn't help but smirk in response. Over the woman's shoulder, he saw Ted watching the little trick and shaking his head a little. He was probably just jealous that Barney was right about women finding his magician act tantalizing. Although it did occur to Barney that Ted's disappointment with him for seducing random women was a little more pointed than that, Ted hadn't said anything. Certainly not anything about suspecting Barney's feelings for a certain someone. So what could he do but chalk Ted's attitude up to his general ennui with Barney's antics?

The svelte little woman shifted in Barney's arms, bringing his attention back to her. She was looking up at him expectantly, suggestively. He could have walked her backwards into Ted's bedroom, and his friends might expect that was what this trick was for. But, he reasoned with himself, if he did that he wouldn't be able to even really perform the trick, which was the most important thing. For his integrity as a magician.

"Ah," Barney started, "but what is even more amazing than that offer is…" in a blink of an eye, his hands were free, and he held the cuffs up before her. "That," he said with a grin that was less seductive than showman. After all, he could hit on chicks any time. Putting on a magic show was not always a means to an end. It was awesome in and of itself. "Or," he continued, reaching behind his back and sliding his hands over her own, "this." Before she knew it, he had detached her cuffs, too, and held both sets up for show.

"How did you do that?" the brunette asked, gaping.

Barney smiled proudly. That reaction was exactly what he was going for. It made him almost as happy as getting an 'A' rating on his nighttime activities. But much of the joy of magic came not from performing a trick well, but rather holding the knowledge of a secret over someone, playing your cards close to your chest. And Barney was good at that. "Sorry, can't tell."

She placed one hand on her hip and one on his chest. "That's teasing," she said flirtatiously. Normally, he might have actually been flirting back, using the mystery of magic to intrigue his target. But he was realizing very quickly that tonight he didn't care about the hot chicks. Dammit. Another thing that used to be such an automatic, integral part of himself that he was now having to force.

Barney gently removed the woman's hand from his tie and gave her a friendly smile. "Well, that's magic for you. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to refuel. Big number coming up." Barney turned and strode casually towards the kitchen before the brunette even had time to look disappointed. Marshall and Lily were at the counter, mixing up some more nacho dip. They'd clearly been watching his little double handcuff escape, because all Lily said was, "Smooth, Stinson. "Barney gave her a cocky 'hey, what can I say?' face.

Marshall shook his head a little. "Okay, first of all, that trick was actually kind of awesome." Barney perked up. As much as his friends complained about his magic tricks, he knew deep down they had to like them. Who didn't like magic? Marshall continued, "But what's with the catch and release, man? We actually invited some hot girls we barely know to the party for you, but so far you haven't so much as stuck your tongue down one of their throats."

Barney was reaching casually for a beer glass from the cabinet, and sighed as he grabbed it and turned around. "Oh, Marshall. Haven't I taught you anything about the art of stringing women along?"

"Not really," Marshall replied.

"I hope not," Lily added, a slight edge of warning in her voice. Marshall gave her an incredibly innocent and insistent stare to reassure her. She smiled and squeezed his arm.

Barney ignored the odd feeling of contentment he often got from watching the couple's shows of intimacy. It wasn't enviable or, God-forbid, _cute_. And he definitely hadn't cried at their wedding. "A really good seduction is like a really good magic show," Barney explained, beginning to fill his beer from a mini-keg on the counter. "You have to reel them in slowly. Build up the suspense, then lull them into a false sense of security. That way, when you get to the final 'wow' factor trick, they'll be puddy in your hands. That's the key. You have to keep them just on the edge of their seats." As Barney said this, he took his hands away from his beer glass, which seemed to magically balance on one corner of the glass and on the edge of the counter. Barney smirked and nodded in self-satisfaction. "Admit it. It works."

Marshall and Lily exchanged glances before both breaking out in begrudging smiles. It was all the affirmation Barney needed. He grabbed the glass off the counter and took a swig Just then, the door to the apartment opened and Barney heard a very familiar voice announce, "And then the party began."

Barney's grin got bigger as he set his beer glass down and stepped out to greet his brother. "James, you finally made it!" he exclaimed happily, giving his brother a good solid bro-hug and slap on the back.

"Sorry it took so long. Tom and I got a babysitter and were having this really romantic evening out on the-"

Barney cut him off with a brief but loud, "La la la!" a 'not listening' kind of sound. "Okay, I indulge your gooey romantic little stories on occasion, but dude, it's my birthday."

"Fine, we'll do it your way," James replied genially.

"James!" Lily said, coming out of the kitchen to give him a hug. Barney was always glad that his brother and his friends got along so well. They'd even continued to accept him after he'd sold out and gotten married, significantly reducing his awesomeness factor. So had Barney. It took a big man to do that.

"Hey man, good to see you," Marshall added. "How's the family."

"Sorry, I promised Barney I wouldn't gush in front of him today," James replied.

"It's not just for me," Barney insisted, "It would ruin your awesome assistant persona, and therefore my big trick." He thought about it a moment. "Which I guess _is _for me. But also for my friends, who are going to have their minds blown."

"Speaking of which, where's Robin?" James asked, looking pointedly at Barney and raising one eyebrow a bit.

Barney's eyes widened slightly in warning. His brother knew him better than anyone, and was able to read the expression clearly. He played it off by looking around the room and trying to

seem more casual, and less as if he were teasing his kid brother about his grade school crush.

"Ah, I don't know," Barney said, trying equally as hard to sound nonchalant about it. It wasn't as if he'd been wondering that for hours.

Lily also tried a laid-back tone, but in typical Lily fashion, only grew more manic because of it. "She's asleep. You know, that crazy new schedule of hers for that morning show. But she should probably be waking up soon. Not that it matters if Robin specifically is here. Barney's just having a fun birthday with his friends. All of us friends." She fist-bumped him on the shoulder in a painfully nervous manner. "Happy birthday, buddy!"

Barney gave her the most piercing glare he'd ever given her, and she withered in apology. Clearly, Lily was not nearly as cut out for the whole subtlety and hiding your feelings thing as he was. He was really starting to regret telling her about his feelings for Robin. He probably couldn't have picked a worse actor.

As Barney tried to compose himself, he caught Marshall looking between Lily and him curiously. That set off alarm bells in Barney's brain. Lily and James knowing and trying to help him out was bad enough. Ted giving him those disapproving stares when he hit on random chicks was incredibly annoying. But Marshall, with his unrelenting romantic drive and stupid bedtime stories about marriage, would be unbearable if he knew. Plus, Barney would probably hear about it all day from him at work.

Making a concerted effort to dispel the awkward moment, Barney theatrically said, "Well, now that my somewhat inferior fraternal assistant is here, it's time for the big number. Ted!" he called out to his friend from across the room. Ted, still looking pretty bored, perked up a little as he wandered over to Barney and James.

"Thank God you got here," Ted said, shaking James's hand. "Does this mean we can finally get that stuff out of my room?"

"It does indeed," James said.

"Great," Ted replied. "Right back here." The brothers followed Ted to his room, where he opened the door and let them in. There was a large item under a black sheet sitting in the corner, plus a closed box sitting on the bed. "So here are the… whatever these are. I'll go round everyone up." He didn't really sound either bored or excited about the idea, and Barney got the impression he was basically just tolerating all of this. At least he wasn't complaining about Barney's magic tricks for once.

As soon as Ted left the room and closed the door, James began to speak. "All right, you've got to tell me what's going on, bro."

Barney's brow furrowed as he opened the box and looked inside, making sure all the knives he needed were there. "What's going on with what?" he didn't look up.

"Come on, Barney. You practically fidgeted out of your skin just because I asked where Robin was." Barney riffled aimlessly through the knives and pretended to ignore his brother. James sighed. "You know, you really shouldn't have tantalized me like this. You can't tell me you're _in love_ with someone then never fill me in on any details."

"Well, there aren't any details to tell," Barney said in a nonplussed fashion, glancing at James only briefly before picking up the box and declaring, "Looks like everything's here. Can you grab the rest?" Now he was collected enough to keep his expression completely normal.

But for some reason, James just shook his head. "Man, if you are this obviously awkward around her all the time, the girl would have to be nuts not to know."

"Awkward? What are you talking about?" Barney scoffed. "I'm totally fine. That's why she hasn't noticed. I've been 100% my normal self. I swear, I haven't done anything weird since she and Ted stopped having sex again. Now come on, my audience is waiting."

Barney had already started to open the door before James shoved it closed. Barney scowled at his older brother. "Hold up," James said, clearly surprised. "Robin and Ted got back together?"

"No, they were just hooking up. It's no big deal. Anyway, that's been over for a few months. And it was stupid, so none of us wants to revisit that." Barney tried to pull the door open, but James was still leaning against it with his full weight.

"It's no big deal but you were doing 'something weird' when it was happening? Why didn't you tell me about any of this?"

"Oh, sure," Barney laid on the sarcasm more thickly than he intended. He could feel his expression darkening and the entertainer's mask completely slipping away. "It'd be great fun hanging out at your place with you and your husband talking about craft fairs, cuddling, and cupid. Why don't we invite Marshall and Lily, too? Or Ted and whoever his latest 'the One' happens to be? Oh, oh!" he exclaimed with false excitement, really getting worked up now. "For good measure, let's add Robin and her perfect Quigley Down Under boyfriend. Then we'll all sit around and help Barney solve the problem of how to stop feeling so shitty about the fact that the only woman he's had any feelings for in 10 years will never feel the same way about him by _talking about it more_!"

Barney hadn't realized how loud or angry his voice was getting, but the look of concern on James's face was a familiar one. He'd always had some trouble managing his anger well and his brother had been there for more outbursts than anyone. Barney vaguely wondered how much Ted would miss the TV on his dresser... But he didn't have enough energy to sustain the burst of adrenaline any longer. Instead, Barney banged his head against the wall then slumped down against it, closing his eyes. When he opened them, he looked up at his brother pleadingly. "Can we please, _please_ drop this."

Maybe it was just because it was his birthday, but James took pity on him. "Sure." He slapped Barney lightly on the shoulder before stepping away from the door and grabbing the stand and box draped in black. "As long as you're good," he asked tentatively.

Barney straightened up, shifting his grip on the box of knives and grabbing for the door. His face instinctively went back to its default slightly smug, fully awesome expression. "Of course I'm good. I told you, I've been fine." With that, Barney threw open the door theatrically and stepped through.

James followed behind him and announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen, if you'll take your seats, the Awesome Barnaby will now be performing his main stage trick." Marshall and Lily, seated up front on the couch, began clapping enthusiastically. Ted, seated next to them, was smiling but trying to hide a yawn like the old man he was. It was only two a.m.

As James set the stand up where the TV usually was, Barney began rolling up his sleeves and slicking back his hair. Some of the chicks gathered around giggled. The male guests seemed to look on Barney with admiration, most likely wondering how they, too could learn such an impressive trade. Just as they were almost done setting up, Barney saw someone coming out of the kitchen from the corner of his eye. He did a tiny double-take with his eyes, and yes, that was Robin in her pajamas holding a cup of coffee.

James might not have had much confidence in Barney's ability to play it cool, but he wasn't lying when he said things had been chill with Robin over the last several weeks. They'd been hanging out, even broing out a little. There had been no detectable awkwardness between them, not even when Barney had felt that burning sensation throughout his circulatory system. At least, there hadn't been before she started dating that meathead.

But Barney couldn't help it. He had this compulsion to make the most of every second he spent with Robin now. It wasn't that he was jealous. He just wanted Robin to himself. It was with renewed purpose that Barney addressed his friend in an unforced manner. "Hey, look who decided to join that land of the Living. It. Up." He grinned and raised a hand for a high five. Robin smiled and returned the gesture.

"Morning, Barney. And Happy Birthday." She curled up in the chair and sipped from her mug.

"Thanks Scherbatsky." He was pleasantly surprised with how well she was taking waking up to two dozen people in her apartment. "You're up just in time for the main event. Now, maestro?" James hit the CD player and some mysterious, bass-heavy song started playing. Barney went right into magician mode as James lowered the lights.

"This," Barney said, pulling the black sheet off the box in one smooth motion, "may look like an ordinary box." In fact, it was a rather ornamentally painted black and red box with hand-carved dragons detailed in the sides. "But in fact, it is a very useful object for solving family disputes. Imagine you're having a fight with your brother-" James took a dramatic swing at Barney's head. Barney threw a hand up and caught the fist without looking. "And fists are just not going to be enough." The music track switched to gritty techno, and the brothers began pantomiming a karate fight in slow motion, _Matrix_-style. The audience began chuckling, and Barney thought he even saw Ted laugh quietly.

Finally, the show fight ended with Barney pushing his brother into a chair beside the box. "Well that's when it might be helpful," Barney moved to stand behind James and pulled the box down over his brother's head, "to take extreme measures." Barney circled around and opened a door on the front of the box so that everyone could see James's head inside. "Y'ok in there, bro?"

"I am so telling mom," James deadpanned.

"Ha ha! We'll see about that!" Barney guffawed in an extravagantly evil fashion. He slammed the little door shut, hiding James's face. Spinning to the side, he grabbed a knife from the box and held it aloft. "Don't fail me now, Ulysses!" he said to the knife. Then, with a shout, he drove the blade down into the box containing James's head. His brother let out a long scream and waved his arms around frantically. There were gasps from several bimbos. And Marshall.

"This is for all those wet willies," Barney ground out in faux anger, driving another blade in. "And stealing my Star Wars action figures." Another. "For telling me _Carrie_ wouldn't be that scary when I was four!" Another. He suddenly dropped the dramatic evil act for his usual self. "I mean, dude. Flat-chested chick with the power to kill people who realize how lame she is... What _isn't_ scary about that?" The crowd was laughing and eating the bit up, making Barney feel more and more pumped.

He instantly popped back into the evil magician act, his voice dipping and quivering with drama. "But the final straw, dear brother. That has come tonight. And that…" Barney bounded towards the piano and grabbed one of the swords from the wall, then whirled back. He slowly stalked forward, taking a step with each word. The music crescendoed. "Is showing up… to my birthday party… In. A. _Sweater! Ahhhggg!" _Barney thrust the sword into the box and out the other side as James gurgled and went still. Barney stood back and cackled maniacally, taking the opportunity to also watch the audience. Lily and Marshall were clutching each other, Ted was chowing down on some pretzels, and Robin's jaw was slack. Barney's eyes glimmered in satisfaction and anticipation of the final reveal of the trick.

"But the best part, of course," he held up a finger and stepped slowly towards the front of the box. "Is the satisfaction of seeing your handy-work. So I'll just open this up, and-" When Barney opened the door on the front of the box, the knives and swords were visible, crossing in a wild pattern. But James's head had magically disappeared. His arms suddenly started feeling around as if trying to find his own head (James always enjoyed this part too much).

Barney dropped to his knees and shook his fists. "No! Curse you James Stinson! You and your firstborn sorcerer's tricks have foiled my revenge yet again!" Barney reached up and slammed the little door shut, slumping to the ground as if in defeat. As he sat there, James's hands reached up and began removing the knives and dropping them to the ground. The music slowed to a single, melancholy violin as Barney began literally tearing his shirt and mumbling, "Woe is me!"

James closed the door on the front of the box, then freed himself by slipping out the bottom. He strode over to stand beside Barney. Gently placing a hand on his brother's shoulder, he spoke in a dulcet tone. "Don't worry, little brother. Look at it this way. I get your best toys, and you get my hand me down clothes that I don't want anymore." A beat. "Oh, and this." James pulled Barney into a headlock and began giving him a noogie.

"Hey!" Barney said, standing up and straightening his hair. "That was totally not in the script."

"Neither is this." James waved his hands and out of nowhere (Barney had taught him well) produced a small box with a ribbon on it. "Happy birthday, Barney."

Barney's eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas. He quickly unwrapped the box and opened it. Inside was a shinning, white-gold Rolex with a sleek black face. Barney grinned as he took out the watch and slipped it onto his wrist. "I love it." He gave his brother a brief hug, then noticed the 'curtain call' music had started playing. Barney quickly turned back to his audience and gave a bow. The chicks clapped enthusiastically. His friends wore expressions more of knowing amusement than of amazement, the kind you could only have if you were 'in' on the Barney show.

"Thank you, thank you folks." The music had stopped and James turned the lights back up. Everyone started to slowly mull around, some heading for drink refills. "I'm here all night." Barney winked at one bimbo as he walked past her towards his friends. He sat down on the edge of Robin's chair, looking down at her and then around at the rest of the gang. "All right, admit it. Awesome?" He held out his hands expectantly.

Everyone exchanged glances. "Okay, Barney," Ted said, "That was pretty cool. Maybe worth letting you commandeer my apartment for."

"Completely amazing is more like it," a high-pitched voice said into Barney's ear. He tried not to wince visibly as he turned his head to see a busty blonde who couldn't have been older than 23 staring at him adoringly.

Barney raised an eyebrow. "That's just par for the course, babe," he said with a click of his tongue. Was it just him, or could he hear Robin chuckle into her coffee mug? All right, maybe that one had been a little over the top. Maybe. Still, this chick _was_ hot, and she was drooling all over him. Barney had no idea why he had to pretend to be interested in girls like that these days. Why was he wincing at this? Why wasn't his mind automatically launching into a dozen manipulations he could use to exploit her weaknesses and get her in bed?

The busty blonde twirled a piece of hair around her finger. She honest to God _twirled her hair around her finger_. Could she be more cliché? But wait, why did he care? Her fake boobs weren't shrinking because of it. "Tell the truth," she said, leaning towards him, "you're like, totally a professional, aren't you? I bet you're that Masked Magician guy who used to be on TV!"

Barney's charm melted away instantly. "The Masked Magician?" He asked incredulously. Standing, he continued with increasing dismay, "The Masked Magician. Betrayer of Illusionists the world over and destroyer of the primetime magic special? _The Masked Magician_?! How dare you compare me to him. Get out! Out!" It took the girl a moment to realize he was dead serious. Her smile withered.

The girl scampered away in confusion as Barney turned back to his friends. "Can you believe that chick?" he asked, gesturing to her as she fled out the front door.

"You're really serious about this, huh?" Lily asked, taken aback.

"Of course I'm serious. That bastard went against everything magicians stand for just to make a quick buck. He pulled back the curtain, ruined the mystery of the acts. Who _doesn't _hate that guy?" Barney decided to take their blank stares as blank stares of agreement.

"You know, he actually may be right about that," Robin mused. "Seriously, how long has it been since Lance Burton had one of those TV shows with all the doves appearing out of nowhere."

Ted gave Robin a funny _how do you know that_ look. Barney, for his part, couldn't help the sloppy, unbridled smile that broke out across his face. It was stupid, really. Everyone knew who Lance Burton was, even, he suspected, up in Canada. But for some reason, Barney was irrationally happy to hear Robin dropping any magic knowledge.

Before he could hold himself in check, Barney excitedly added, "I know, right? One of the all-time masters of sleight-of-hand and now you only see him in Vegas. You know," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a deck of cards, "I've been told I have pretty good hands. I've mastered the French Drop and the Hindu Shuffle." He grinned and nodded, acknowledging how questionable that sounded. "Yeah."

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess that those are sex acts," Ted ventured.

"They're magic moves," James corrected.

"Or that's what the ladies say when I do them." Barney couldn't contain his joy at his own cleverness. "What. Up!" he held up a hand for a high five. At first he caught Lily's eyes and she shook her head. Then Barney turned to Robin and held his hand down to her. "Come on, Scherbatsky, you know that was a good one."

Robin didn't take much convincing. He could tell she was already trying to contain a smile at the comment. She allowed herself to smile openly as she shook her head at his antics and reciprocated the high-five. For a moment, Barney let his stare linger on her as they exchanged grins. That odd tingling spreading out from his chest began surging again. Wasn't that a symptom of a heart attack? That must be it. Maybe he should get that checked out…

Still, there was something wonderful about the easy way he and Robin played off each other. He really had been making an effort to be a better friend to her lately, to be cool, to just hang out. But whenever he saw that little glimmer in her eye, Barney couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was something there he wasn't just imagining. Something that gave him hope. That little spark of hope kept rekindling no matter how often he tried to put it out. Even as he consciously knew he should be smothering it with dirt, he wondered how he could keep that spark in her eyes alive.

Barney removed the cards from the box and started shuffling them slowly. "All right, while the stabbing James in the head trick takes a lot of flair," he glanced around at the group to try to make it seem like this was for all of them, but he was so magnetically drawn back to Robin at this point that Barney didn't even care if his front slipped a little for the others. Dangerous, but perhaps worth the risk? "But you guys should see some of my close-up skill work." He couldn't resist adding a small wink to Robin, and she even seemed to appreciate the joke. This was the perfect woman. "Now, this first trick was made famous by-"

"Hey, love." A voice, _that_ voice, with its stupid drawl and lilt combination, interrupted. It was coming from behind Robin. It was coming from a disgusting, perfectly proportioned, Greek statue-like face. Alistair rubbed Robin's shoulders and smiled down at her, stealing her beautiful smile and glimmering eyes away as she returned the expression. "This is some party. Why didn't you wake me up?"

It suddenly became apparent to everyone that Alistair, like Robin, was wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt. He had clearly just come from her room, where they had evidently been holed up for a while. And he's stepped out into a party he was explicitly _not _invited to. Barney's face twitched. He was a master, but even a master couldn't hide the level of rage that suddenly swept through him.

"Happy Birthday, Barney," Alistair said with an amiable smile. Barney was seeing a shade of orange that was edging dangerously towards red.

"Alistair," Barney replied, his voice lower than usual, which his friends recognized as threatening, but which the Aussie was completely unaware of. "I was just saying this party was missing something." The sarcasm dripping through his gritted teeth may as well have been acid. "Say, would you like to help me with a trick?"

Alistair gave that stupid uncertain smile and shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Sure. I'd love to." Barney resisted the chance to chuckle as the idiot stepped into his web.

Ted and Lily looked on the developing scene in worry. "Uh oh," they whispered simultaneously.

A smirk tugged at the edge of Barney's mouth as he kept staring down the clueless jock. 'Uh oh' was right.


	4. Chapter 4

Note: Okay, I really hate seeming like I'm begging for reviews, but in all honesty it's pretty depressing to spend a lot of time on it, see that you have 86 visits to a chapter and only one review. I can't really tell if I'm on the right track here or not... I hope you enjoy the chapter.

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Barney's Cheshire-cat grin couldn't quite match how excited he was on the inside to show up Alistair. And, just maybe, to scare him a little bit. Better, the guy had stepped right into the trap himself. Ignoring the worried looks of his friends, he waved Alistair over to stand beside him. "Now, Alistair," he began, resuming shuffling the cards upside down in the air. "You may not know this, but some decks of cards are psychic."

"Oh?" Alistair played along. "I believe it."

Barney stopped shuffling for a moment and gave Alistair a 'please' look. "Let's not be patronizing. I know you don't believe me, but you and everyone else here," he gestured to the others, who still looked uncertain, "will in a minute. I'm going to ask you a question about you and Robin." He knew Lily was giving him a pleading stare to stop even without looking. That woman was so predictable. But Barney had started now, and you couldn't just stop a trick once it had begun.

"Ah," Alistair looked down at Robin, who merely rolled her eyes dismissively. In her mind, this was just Barney being his usual prying self. But at least she didn't try to stop him. "Okay."

"But, I should warn you," Barney said, holding up a cautioning finger. "If you lie, the magic gods are likely to get very angry with you. This deck will know if you're telling the truth or not. It can read even the smallest of minds," he said cheerfully, riffling the deck of cards against Alistair's forehead with one hand, the rapid movement making a satisfying _thwack_ sound.

Alistair cleared his throat, seeming a little annoyed for the first time. He eyed Barney, sizing him up. Oh, so maybe there was some life in that airhead after all? Good. It was more fun to play with live prey than to just be fed a dead turkey anyway. "Brain size is one thing," Alistair said, trading annoyance for flippancy, "but I wonder if your psychic deck is used to trying to pick through the mind of a psychiatrist. We're trained to think in unnecessarily complicated ways." The others chuckled a little at this self-deprecating joke, but Barney was just confused.

"Psychiatrist?" Barney asked. "I thought you were a rugby player?" he looked at Robin questioningly.

"So I misled you a little," she admitted. "But I did say he _plays_ rugby. I never said professionally."

"In university, and now just a club team here in New York. Bit of fun after all that blathering, right?" Alistair said.

"But still totally hot," Robin playfully batted Alistair's arm, and he grinned.

Barney now had multiple reasons to feel like he wanted to throw up. "A shrink. Great," he said through gritted teeth and a plastic smile. He wished he'd known that earlier. He never would have stayed in the same room as the guy. Those wackos were known to say the most ridiculous things about anyone within a 20 foot radius. But he couldn't leave now. He'd begun a trick.

"Well, have no fear. The deck's psychic powers even extend through gobs of bullshit to get to your 'thoughts'." Barney continued shuffling as he asked, "Now, Alistair. Would you say you're a shallow guy?"

"No. Of course not," he replied.

"And materialistic?"

Alistair shrugged easily. "No, kind of against all that, really."

Barney grinned. Hook. "So you're a man who's primarily concerned about the heart, are you? Good to hear. Now, the deck has this scenario to pose to you." He started Hindu-shuffling the cards now. "Say you had the chance to move back to Australia and take a lucrative job as, I don't know, a psychiatrist for the executives of a multi-national corporation."

"They have those?" Lily asked.

"Theoretically," Barney replied, avoidant. "Anyway, this job, it would pay well. Really well. Even considering it pays in Australian dollars, it's still a seven-figure job. But if you leave, you'd have to leave Robin." Barney pulled up his suit jacket sleeves a little and eyed Alistair, who was looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes. "So, the question is, what's really in charge of your brain- your wallet, or your heart? Be truthful, now. The deck will know your answer." He waved the cards in front of Alistair.

"No contest," Alistair replied instantly. He caught Robin's eyes and hooked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I'd chose Robin." The sincerity in his voice was more than Barney would have expected, especially considering the two of them had barely started dating.

But Barney, to his credit, kept cool about it. He handed the deck to Alistair. "Shuffle. And we'll see what the deck has to say about this." Alistair obliged like a good sport, shuffling along. The others were now looking on with a morbid curiosity to see where the hell Barney was going with this line of questioning. James looked less amused than pained, so Barney made a point of not looking at him. His brother had already promised to shut up already about Robin for the duration of the party. "Hand them back to me whenever you like," Barney said. Alistair handed the cards over and Barney cut the deck.

"Now, Lily, please blow on the deck to imbue it with the spirit of unbridled honesty. Only leave out the part of your breath that manipulates your friends' love-lives." Barney winked at Ted, who didn't look amused. Barney held the deck out to Lily, and after a little eye roll, she obliged. Turning back to Alistair, he said, "Now stop the deck whenever you like." Barney slowly began riffling the deck in one hand as he incanted in a dramatic voice, "It is now prepared to speak the truth. Deck, show us the lady with whom his thoughts verily lie!"

Alistair put his finger into the deck, halting its progress. Barney smiled maliciously at the man for a moment before pulling out the card he'd stopped at. After a beat, he held the card up confidently, without even looking, and showed it around to the gang. "The deck never lies. More than we can say about you, I guess," Barney said, tossing the card face-up onto the coffee table- the Queen of Diamonds.

"Neat trick!" Marshall said boyishly. Normally Barney would have been happy for the praise, especially since the rest of his friends just seemed uncomfortable over this particular trick. But his eyes were still fixed on Alistair.

"All right, pretty good. Funny," Alistair said, nodding and smiling. But Barney could read that nod and smile very well, and knew this guy was trying hard not to punch the magician for the incredibly smug way he was acting. Which would be all the better. Maybe then Barney would be the one with the painful but awesome Robin-wooing bruises to show.

"Oh, there's nothing funny about it," Barney said theatrically, tossing the deck aside. "Now we know that what you really want more than Robin is…" Barney brought his hands together, the same gesture he used right before he usually let out some sparks. He actually thought he saw Ted about to jump up for fear of the apartment catching flames again. But instead, Barney began rapidly producing coils of bills out of nowhere. "Cold, hard cash."

Robin smiled. She actually smiled, despite the fact that Barney was insulting her boyfriend. "That is some pretty good sleight-of-hand," she admitted. That twinge of hope lit up in him once more. Obviously, Barney was right. Magic skills did still trump bone-crushing or head-shrinking ones.

But the trick wasn't quite over. And, encouraged by Robin's interest in it, Barney ramped up the energy. "Oh, but wait! The magic gods will not stand for this," he waved the currency in his left hand, "indecency. Behold!" with a broad wave of his right hand, a magic wand the length of his arm appeared. "The instrument of justice." In an instant, the end of the wand closest to his hand lit on fire. The flame traveled quickly up the wand towards the other end.

"Barney, careful…" Ted began.

"Ted, would you relax." He turned his head to the left towards his friend. "I'm practically a professional." Barney waved Ted off with a flourish of the flaming wand. He was planning on brining it back towards the wad of cash and letting it burn up in a dramatic finish to the trick. But he was still looking at Ted, and he might have accidentally miscalculated how close Alistair was to his right arm when he spun the wand around…

"_Ahhhg!"_ the shout was loud enough to get the attention of essentially everyone at the party. Barney had felt the wand hit something hard, and turned towards the sound to see Alistair reeling backwards clutching the side of his head.

"Oh my God! Alistair!" Robin exclaimed, jumping up from the chair. She pushed past Barney, completely forgetting about the end of the trick. Barney just stood in shock, holding the still-flaming wand, as his friends all leapt up to Alistair's aid.

"Dude, are you okay? Did it hit you in the eye?" Marshall asked. Lily bit her nails nervously as she stood beside her husband, craning her neck to see Alistair.

"Ahhhg…" this time it was more of a groan than a shout, and Alistair mustered some actual words. "No, my ear and the side of my head a little."

"Let me see," Robin insisted, gently tugging on his shirt sleeve to get him to pull his hand away from his face. When he did, everyone gasped. From where Barney was standing, it just looked like the guy's hair was a little singed and he had a reddish-brown burn just above his ear, but nothing _that_ serious. Barney had had worse.

That didn't stop them from fawning over the guy, though. "It's bleeding a little. We should put a rag and some ice on it," Marshall suggested, beginning to help Alistair towards the kitchen. Robin hung on his opposite arm. Great, now Barney had gone and injured the dude and added to his sex appeal. Perfect.

"I'll see if we have some aloe," Lily dashed off towards the bathroom.

Ted grabbed a washcloth and ice and handed it to Alistair, who leaned against the counter, wincing in pain. As Barney approached, he could see that the burn might have been a little larger than he'd previously thought. But still, it wasn't that bad. Only a tiny bit looked like a second-degree burn.

"Anything I can do to help? Maybe finish the trick, keep morale up?" Barney asked, smiling to try to break the literally pained silence.

Ted and Robin both looked at him in a decidedly unhappy manner. Ted, being closer, took action and snatched the flaming wand out of Barney's hand. He turned on the faucet and extinguished the flames in the water, then broke the wand in half and threw it in the trash.

Barney said with a bit of a pout, "Now I'm going to have to buy a new one."

"You set someone on fire and you're complaining about a _stick_?" Ted asked in a threatening voice. His nostrils actually started to flare, and Barney felt that was a bit of an overreaction.

Barney tried to defend himself. "Hey, it was an accide-"

"You _set him on fire!_" Ted shouted. For a second, Barney actually had the feeling that Ted was about to punch him. Which was ridiculous because, come on, it was Ted, right? His brother. His pretty girly brother.

Whatever might have happened, James stepped fully in between Ted and Barney. "Barney, maybe you should just stand back for a minute. They probably need to take Alistair to the hospital."

"Pft," Barney scoffed. "Come on, that's like a sunburn in Australia. He'll be fine." The guy had Robin fawning all over him. What did he have to complain about? But even Marshall sent Barney a look at that comment that was, if not quite angry, at least very disappointed.

"Barney," Ted began, his voice already loud and about to get louder. That is, until he was interrupted.

"Okay, buddy," a voice from behind Barney said. Lily put a hand on his arm and pulled him backwards a few steps. "Here." She handed a tube of burn ointment to James, who went to hand it to Marshall and Robin. Ted was still glaring at Barney.

Barney really didn't understand what the big deal was. And frankly, this was starting to be a real buzz kill. Everyone at the party was just standing around staring instead of being awesome. "Why don't we just all calm down and I'll do some nice, safe coin tricks."

Lily suddenly yanked Barney with surprising strength away from the kitchen and towards the window. "All right, that's it," she said in her combination teacher/drill-sergeant voice that, if Barney was honest with himself, always frightened him a little. "Out. To the roof. I'm putting you in time-out, mister."

"This is _my_ party," Barney whined.

"_Out!_"

"Okay!" Barney shouted back defensively as he scrambled out the window and onto the fire escape. He made his way to the roof quickly, suddenly afraid to turn his back on Lily.

As soon as Lily's feet hit the rooftop, she said, "What are you doing, Barney?"

He gave her a dumbfounded look. "Uh, magic. And doing it pretty well, you gotta admit."

She looked incredulous for some reason. "If that's what you qualify as a show of yours going well, I really don't want to see one go wrong."

"Come on, you guys ate up the thing with the knives and the box," Barney reminded her. That one had come out perfectly, actually. He was still tingling a little with the satisfaction of actually impressing his friends with a trick for once.

"You know what I'm talking about!" Lily shouted, causing Barney to flinch and take a step back. Lily might have been small, but you'd be surprised at how much adrenaline could do for an angry woman's strength. Or the inverse effect it had on her sanity. He wasn't staying any closer to the edge of the roof than was necessary. "Barney," Lily said, more calmly, but no less insistently, "I don't care if it is your birthday. Magic is not an excuse to hit someone you don't like in the head with a flaming stick."

"First of all, it's called a wand," Barney corrected. "And that was an accident." Her expression said she didn't believe him. "I'm serious. What, you think I'd want to mess up a trick like that? I have standards, Lily."

"And are you sure that impressing Robin doesn't trump your standards as a magician?"

His natural reaction was to say that nothing trumped a magician's integrity, but he stopped just as he was beginning to open his mouth. Hmm. Actually, Lily was right. That was a tough one. He stared off quizzically into the sky as he considered it. In a battle between magic and Robin, which won? Maybe he should consult the magic deck on that one. _Robin, obviously!_ His gut told him. And his brain was just about to agree before he realized what he was about to think. No, Robin was just a phase. Magic was forever. "Of course not," he finally answered. "Anyway, who says I was trying to impress her."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Barney, you are good at faking a whole lot of things. So good, in fact, that I'm not even sure half the time." Good, he thought. Then even this recent forced version of himself was pulling the wool over Lily's eyes. She was pretty perceptive, so this was a good sign. Then she added, "But you've been so obvious about this, even _Robin_ has probably noticed. And she's not always that observant."

Barney panicked. "Wait, you think she's _noticed_ noticed?"

Lily sighed, as if disappointed. "No. I think she's noticed you've been acting extra weird lately, but I still don't think she has any idea why."

Barney let out a sigh of relief and leaned against the wall. "Oh, good. Don't scare me like that. I thought you sounded disappointed, but that's good news. Why in hell would you be upset about it?"

"Would it really be so horrible if she knew?" Lily asked, her voice settling down now into its typical sweet, slightly doting tone.

"Yes," he replied ardently. He didn't even have to think about that one. Not now, anyway. He'd already thought about it plenty in the past and, well, hadn't exactly come up with a lot of upsides. "Yes, it would be that horrible. Because that's not what she wants. And then it would just be weird for all of us." She'd never look at him the same again. Barney neglected to add that what had really sealed this argument for him was realizing that if Robin knew how he felt about her, all the hope would be gone. The outrageous hope somewhere in the back in his mind. Any ridiculous 'maybes' that he wouldn't even admit to himself he held onto most of the time. She certainly would make sure to stop giving him those _looks_, the ones that sent the burning buzz through him. Rationally, he knew that would be a good thing. That longing wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling. But, to tell the truth, Barney was kind of addicted to it.

"I don't think you believe that," Lily said. "If you really didn't want her to know, you'd stop trying so hard to get her attention. I mean above and beyond your normal attempts to get everyone's attention." Barney shifted, his mask slipping a degree. Dammit, he couldn't help wanting to listen to Lily's advice. Something about her voice. Maybe she was a sorceress.

Lily clearly could tell she was onto something here. Barney had to admit, he wasn't the only one who was really good at reading people. It seemed to be Lily's sixth sense. Her suspicions were why he'd wound up confiding in her in the first place. And now she was looking at him as if she were expecting him to fess up. Which was kind of annoying. "Look, I just don't really want to talk about this right now," he said.

That was clearly not what she was hoping for. She frowned. "You've let this get to the point where you're lighting people on fire. When will be a good time to talk about it?"

"How about when we're not at my party?" Barney ground out. "God, first James and now you." Did everyone think this was the best time to try to get him to talk about his feelings? He didn't have any feelings. Not at a party where he was the main event. The Awesome Barnaby, magician extraordinaire. "Now, come on…" he started to head towards the stairs, but Lily stepped in front of him.

"No," she said firmly. "Not before you promise me to stop the extra crazy attempts to get Robin's attention."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He tried again to push past her, but this time she grabbed him by the arm, digging her nails in a little. Barney stepped back, sighing as he realized he really wasn't going to be able to get past her until she let him.

"Dammit, Barney, stop being such a woman!" she was sounding more exasperated than scary at this point. "You're a guy. Women don't expect you to give elaborate, subtle hints. Or even less subtle, but incredibly weird hints."

Barney bit the inside of his cheek and glowered down at Lily. He was starting to feel confined and restless up here, even with the open night sky. Lily was really pushing his buttons. And given that most of them had already been firmly squashed in by James earlier in the night, he didn't have many left before self-destruct was initiated.

But Lily kept going. "In fact, you're not supposed to give hints at all! When you think or feel something, you're just supposed to say it!"

"I did!" Barney barked. It took a moment for him to realize he'd said anything. It had come out unbidden. Lily understood enough to look even less inclined to let him off the roof without an explanation than before.

"You did what?" she asked tentatively, seeming to have an idea of what he meant.

Shit, shit, shit. He had never even meant to tell anyone about that little incident. Ever. Barney began pacing around, rubbing a hand across his forehead. This was one of those memories that was supposed to stay deeply buried. Not dead, because no memory that painful was ever truly dead, but contained well enough that at least it wouldn't be exposed to air and burn any hotter than it already did. This little memory of Robin was supposed to stay locked away with some other memories of her, from _that_ night. And with memories of Shannon that he hadn't shared in his retelling. Like how she'd told everyone at the coffee shop about Greg weeks before Barney found out, how they'd all been laughing at him behind his back. And, once he'd found out, to his face.

Barney rubbed the heel of his palm in his eye-socket. But this wasn't going away. Finally, he grumbled, "I did say what I felt. To Robin." When he looked at Lily, her eyes were wide with a mixture of shock and excitement.

"You mean you told her… that you love her?" The fevered anticipation in her eyes betrayed her. Lily's brain was already jumping to good news.

"Yeah," Barney sighed.

"When was this?"

"Right after she stopped sleeping with Ted."

"And?" her eyes were as big as saucers.

Well, Barney was sorry to rain on her parade. He stared at her evenly. "Lily, do you really think if it had gone well that we'd be in this situation now?"

It was only then that it seemed to occur to her that she'd let her excitement at this revelation sweep away her logic. Her face fell. "Oh. I guess not." Then, more gently, "What happened?"

"Nothing. She thought I was kidding, making fun of Ted for being all emotional." He was starting to experience a strange sense of déjà vu, remembering telling Lily about his semi-date with Robin all those months ago. She had the same sad, sympathetic look on her face. Unfortunately, there was no stupid bimbo to break the moment or ease the anguish this time.

"I'm sorry, Barney," she said sincerely.

"Nah, I should have known better." He tried to wave it off, only half-convincing himself and not convincing Lily at all. She studied him carefully, not as if he were some sad lost puppy like she had when he'd originally told her about his feelings for Robin. No, she seemed to sense that there was no longer anything cute about any of this.

After a few moments of silence, Lily patted him on the arm. "Come on. Let's go back inside. Things have probably settled enough by now, and I'd like to see those coin tricks you were talking about." Barney stared at her appreciatively. She knew he'd be forcing an act if he did this. She also seemed to realize that, right now, it was what he needed. He smiled and nodded, then she turned and led the way down the steep stairs back to the apartment.

Inside, the vibe of the party had calmed noticeably from earlier in the night. Some of the guests had left. By contrast, Ted, James, and Robin were sitting at the couch, looking wired from the excitement they'd been through. Barney and Lily strode over to join them.

"Where'd Alistair go?" Lily asked.

"Marshall took him to the ER," James explained.

"I still think I should have gone with him," Robin said. She sounded worried, which was weird. Robin wasn't usually the most nurturing of people. Barney tried very hard not to care, but after his talk with Lily his ego that usually served as a barrier to such feelings was deflated.

"You know he didn't want you to," Ted reminded her. "You have to be at work in a few hours."

"Is he okay?" Barney asked.

Ted's eyes snapped up, and Barney could see an edge of anger present there. "If by okay you mean not horrifically injured or dying, then yes. But that burn was pretty bad."

Barney nodded silently, in honesty feeling some remorse. The point of the trick was to make fun of Alistair and to scare him a little with the fire, not to hurt him. Ted had been the one to distract him anyway, so it was kind of his fault. But maybe Barney shouldn't point that out. Instead, what this party needed was some levity. "Well that's good to hear," Barney said, chipper on the outside. He held up a hand before anyone could respond. "To be clear, not the 'burned pretty bad' part. The other thing."

Reaching into this pocket, Barney produced three quarters. "I'm sensing that what this party needs now is a little non-dangerous excitement. Can't have a party with my name on it getting this dead. Now, stop me if you've seen this one-"

"You've got to be kidding me!" Ted's jaw was slack and the fire in his eyes was stronger than ever.

"I never joke about magic," Barney said frankly. He thought that was clear by now. Had Ted even been listening?

"Your stupid tricks almost severely injured Robin's boyfriend," Ted began. Barney cringed internally. Did he really have to say it that way? Maybe it wasn't worse than saying that stupid, British-ish name. "And now," Ted continued, standing up to look Barney in the eye, "you want us to sit through more of them?"

"You like my tricks," Barney said, a statement, but one that was trying too hard to be sure of its own truth. Lily exchanged glances with him.

"No! We don't! Not right now!" Ted's adrenaline seemed to suddenly be released in a torrent. "This is precisely the reason we had the intervention for them in the first place. So we wouldn't have to deal with you making our stuff disappear or scorching the fireplace or, yes, lighting someone on fire."

"It was really more like I _hit_ him with the fire," Barney corrected. "And I told you, that was totally an accident."

Finally Ted's gritted teeth and piercing stare finally proved inadequate for coping with Barney's logic. His face grew red with anger. "Get out!" he yelled, pointing to the door.

Barney had no internal reaction at first except disbelief. His face quirked into a hesitant half-smile. "You're kidding, right?" he asked, his brain stuttering to contemplate what Ted had said.

But Ted shook his head silently. Barney looked around at the others for help, but they seemed too uncomfortable with the situation to jump in. Great. His eyes met Ted's again, and he could see how dead-serious his friend was. "Barney, I just… can't deal with any more of this right now. I'm trying not to blow up at you and say something I'll regret." Ted's voice was even, but tense like a wire pulled taught. "But you are really, _really_ pissing me off."

Barney's half-smirk darkened into more of a half-grimace. "If you have the problem, why don't you leave? This is _my _party."

"This is _my_ apartment," Ted countered. "Which you invited yourself to have a party at without asking. Which I haven't complained about at all."

"It's not _your_ apartment, Ted. It's Robin's," Barney said snidely. "Right, Robin?" Robin looked at Lily and James to her right, then up at Barney. Her eyebrows were raised slightly. Maybe she required some cajoling. "You wouldn't kick a bro out on his birthday."

There was something unlike anger, but more like confused impatience in her eyes. He hadn't noticed that before, and it made him feel the need to shift his weight uncertainly. Robin opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She exchanged glances with Ted, who was also eagerly awaiting her response, before turning her eyes back to Barney. Quietly, she said, "I'm sorry, Barney, but I think Ted's right. Maybe you should go. Let things cool off."

Barney's face fell. Which was an impressive bit of restraint considering he felt like he'd been punched hard enough to send him reeling back a few feet. For a moment, his eyes were distraught, and he knew it was extremely dangerous to keep them on Robin, so he looked at Lily instead. He didn't need to be able to speak to her telepathically for her to know what he was thinking. Her eyes widened in sympathy, and she sat up straight as though she were about to say something in his defense. Which he definitely couldn't have. She'd probably just blurt everything out right then, knowing her.

So Barney cut her off before she could start, proclaiming in a too-loud, too-cheerful voice, "Fantastic. That's actually good, because I was just thinking about moving this act anyway. If I can find my…" He whirled around a little chaotically, then saw the sets of handcuffs sitting on the table. He snatched them up. "Aha. There we go. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some magic to perform." Barney arched an eyebrow characteristically, but unconvincingly judging by his friends' faces.

Paying it no mind, he quickly scanned the room until he spotted the svelte little brunette he'd performed the handcuff trick with before. Attaching one cuff to his wrist, he strolled over and approached her from behind. Clicking the other cuff onto her wrist, Barney exclaimed innocently, "Oooh, no. Clumsy me. That seems to happen to me all the time." The little brunette turned to look up at him, grinning receptively. "Although I've suddenly forgotten how to get out of these. Who would have thought?" His voice dipped from innocent to seductive.

"Does that mean we have to keep them on?" the woman asked with a leer.

Barney smirked to hide the urge to choke up. His mind was racing with a thousand thoughts and memories, he could feel his friends' eyes on him, but he was determined to show none of it. At least the bimbo was buying it. He knew there was a reason he loved them. "Well, I have a key. But it's back at my place…"

"Looks like we'll have to go get it." She grinned, tugging at his tie in a way that sent a jolt through him. Not one of pleasure, unfortunately. It was just that right now that was reminding him of someone else pulling at his tie, pulling him in for a kiss she would soon regret. Forget.

He swallowed hard. "We shouldn't waste any time." His voice was husky, sounding seductive, but feeling raw and pained instead. Luckily the woman didn't notice. She led the way towards the door, yanking at his tie and pulling on the arm that was attached to hers. The stranger drew him out through the front door. Barney gladly followed, making sure not to look back at his friends.


	5. Chapter 5

Marshall had never really liked hospitals. The smell and even, he swore, _taste_ of them was enough to make a person sick from worry alone. I mean, who knew what kinds of diseases were floating around the air. Maybe even ones the CDC didn't know about. He had pointed out the smell to many a nurse on his numerous visits to Barney over the last summer, to no avail. Why couldn't they at least use air fresheners?

He hung up his phone, having finished telling Lily he'd made it to the ER with Alistair. He left out the part about now feeling a little queasy himself. What was it Barney always said? Stop being sick and be awesome instead. Great idea. Take advice from the guy who used a wand as a fiery nun chuck (even if that _did_ sound kind of cool, it was clearly dangerous).

"You don't have to stick around," Alistair said, shifting in his seat and pressing Robin's kitchen rag more tightly to his forehead.

"Nah, man," Marshall insisted. "You shouldn't have to wait on your own. Besides, I'm totally good." He held back a little bit of acid reflux rising from his stomach. He tried to trick himself into associating that hospital smell with jello and pudding cups instead of needles and pouches of blood… nope, that was making it worse. Quick, distraction!

"So anyway," Marshall began, "what's it like moving to a whole new country? Uprooting your life and everything? Because Robin tried it once. That lasted about two weeks."

"I moved here for graduate school and my psychiatric licensing, so I've been here for a couple years." Alistair shrugged. "Still can be a bit of a culture shock."

"I bet," Marshall agreed. After all, going from the rustic bush life to the big city was a crazy amount of change. He wondered briefly if Alistair knew how to make fire using only sticks and stones, then brushed it off. That was a stupid question; of _course_ he did. "Hey," he tried to sound nonchalant, "so how sad was everyone in Australia when Steve Irwin died?"

Alistair looked a little surprised by the question. Maybe because the answer was obvious- devastated, right? "It was surprising, and I felt bad for his family. It's not like I cried or anything, though."

Marshall forced a laugh. "Obviously not. I mean who cries over some guy they don't know, no matter how endearing and beloved and environmentally conscious?" Definitely not Marshall.

"To tell the truth, though," Alistair said, "most Aussies didn't really like the guy. Not that we were happy to see him go or anything, but I feel like some stupid people really thought that's what _all_ people in Australia were like- crazy guys out jumping on crocodiles all the time."

Marshall clamped his mouth shut, because he certainly wasn't about to ask Alistair whether or not he had ever wrestled a crocodile. Clearing his throat, he abruptly switched subjects. "So, you're a psychiatrist then?"

"Yeah. For about four years now. New York's a good place for that, it seems. Lots of crazy folks." He managed a smile as he gestured with the rag to the burn mark on his head.

Marshall felt a twinge of guilt. "Dude, we're really sorry about Barney," he said. "I thought maybe Robin would have warned you. He's kind of…"

"Narcissistic and emotionally stunted?" Alistair offered with a smile to show he wasn't being malicious about it. But he was a shrink, so of course it made sense that he had noticed.

"Right," Marshall agreed. "He's actually a good guy. Kind of." He couldn't help think of all the women Barney had messed with and how disturbing Marshall sometimes found it. It wasn't like Marshall had forgotten how messed up Barney truly was though, either, even though he clearly thought he was passing as totally stable. "But sometimes he goes through these periods where he's just extra desperate for attention. I don't get it."

"Let me guess," Alistair said tentatively, "parental attachment issues?"

Marshall nodded. "Yeah. You could definitely say that."

Alistair sighed. "It makes perfect sense, then. I mean, that he would feel like he had to act out so much when he was trying to get someone to reciprocate his feelings."

Marshall's brow furrowed. That part didn't really compute. "For who to reciprocate what feelings?"

"His feelings for Robin," Alistair stated as if it were the most plain thing in the world.

But Marshall just laughed skeptically, holding up his hands. "Woah," he said, scoffing, "Okay, that makes no sense. Barney doesn't have feelings for Robin, that's crazy. They slept together once a year ago and everyone agreed that was a big mistake. But it's not like he's _in love_ with her!" His crazed, skeptical laughter petered out as he saw the matter-of-fact look on Alistair's face. Marshall's jaw went slack and suddenly he couldn't make it work in conjunction with his tongue to speak. When he recovered, he asked with a wide-eyed stare in a crazed whisper, "Barney's _in love with her_?!"

"I assumed you knew," Alistair replied. "Robin knows, doesn't she?" Marshall shook his head adamantly, unable to get his brain to conjure up any words. He felt like he didn't know much of anything all of a sudden, but he was sure that Robin was even more clueless than him about this. "Ah," Alistair said, reading his expression, "Well I'm not going to tell her. I'll stay out of that one. That would explain a lot, though. Once I figured it out I thought maybe she was just ignoring him. But maybe she really doesn't know."

"No," Marshall finally squeaked out, his brain still racing to catch up with the huge mind-slap he'd been dealt, "she _really_ doesn't."

*****

Once all the guests had cleared out, it became apparent that the apartment itself resembled a national disaster zone. Lily looked around appraisingly. "This place looks kinda like my kindergarten class at the end of the day." She stuffed some plastic cups into the trash bag she was holding.

"Barney's birthday. Kindergarten. Is there much of a difference?" Ted asked, then crinkled his nose at a bottle he was holding. "Okay, maybe there's more alcohol here."

"I don't know," James mused, "some kids are surprisingly into Nyquil. I am never giving my son that stuff. Start there and before you know it, he'll be spending all his time at a bar." He winked at Ted and Lily, who just exchanged glances and shrugged. Lily had stopped trying to pretend she had grown-up tastes in after-work activities a long time ago.

Robin emerged from her room, dressed for work but looking tired. Not a good sign, Lily thought, considering it was morning for her. Robin seemed unusually weighed down. "Can I help you guys with the clean-up?" she asked.

"I think you'd better have some coffee and a bagel instead," Lily responded, ushering her friend gently towards the kitchen. Robin sighed, too exasperated to protest. Evidently, having your boyfriend scorched was a stressful way to start the day. Lily was glad she didn't have personal experience to back that assumption up.

"Did you all hear anything from Marshall and Alistair while I was getting ready?" she asked.

"Marshall called Lily to say they were waiting at the hospital," Ted replied. Looking between Lily and James, he said, "I appreciate you guys helping out, but you really don't have to stay."

Lily waved him away as she stuffed some paper plates into her bag. "You know me. I won't be able to sleep until Marshall's there anyway. Might as well pass the time picking up…" she looked at a crinkled thing on the coffee table that either used to be a nacho or part of a pizza. Holding it delicately by the corner, she dropped it in her trash bag. "…that thing." As gross as it was, Lily had gotten used to the messes that kids made. So this was nothing.

"And I feel like I kind of contributed to the mess," James told Ted. "I kind of encouraged the tossing of cards and spraying of confetti." He frowned at the messy bits of paper on the ground. "It's probably too late and/or early to vacuum, isn't it?"

"I'll get it in the morning. You really don't have to worry about it. But thanks," Ted said.

Robin re-entered and plopped down heavily in the plush chair as she gulped her coffee. "So James, I'm gonna guess this is about par for the course."

Lily would guess that was right, although she suspected whatever private parties Barney normally had involved more illegal activities. At least he'd toned it down in that sense. That was considerate of him, right?

But James didn't seem to follow. "What do you mean?"

"Does Barney consider lighting people on fire a normal part of his 'too awesome for you lame people' party routine? Or did he save that one especially for us?" Ted sounded a little bitter, and as much as Lily wanted to defend Barney, she still couldn't blame the actual occupants of the apartment for being upset with him. She only wished that Barney wouldn't sabotage himself with quite the frequency that he did.

"You mean his birthday parties?" James asked, and Lily noticed he'd stopped cleaning up and had an unreadable blankness settling onto his face.

Lily wondered if this was the equivalent of Barney sometimes spacing out in the middle of a conversation. Maybe it was just a Stinson thing. So she decided to offer gently, "Right. The ones he's been having without us. You've probably been to at least some of them."

But James's expression fell into a frown, and Lily could tell the former blankness was more hesitant confusion than anything. Now James seemed sure of some realization, and saddened by it. "Is that what he told you?" James asked.

"Yeah, and I mean, it made sense," Ted reasoned, still cleaning. Unlike the others, he had not stopped to look at James and was entirely missing the look of gears clicking into place in James's eyes. He just kept on cleaning, working off his frustration. "He probably didn't want us turning him into the cops for God knows whatever he does to celebrate his existence."

It sounded a little harsh coming from Ted, and Lily reminded herself she had just thought essentially the same thing. Because from the look on James's face, she got the feeling they couldn't be more wrong. Lily was now staring intently at James, waiting for an explanation. Finally, James said, "Barney hates birthday parties." That doesn't seem to be the whole story. Lily has a sixth sense about these things, but before she could probe, Ted cut in with a chortle.

"Oh, come on. Birthday parties are like his ultimate excuse to do ridiculous things. He tried to get me to fly to Vegas for my birthday last year."

Lily couldn't help but glance at Robin and their eyes met for a second before Robin's darted back to her coffee. So Lily knew exactly what she was thinking about, and how much Robin did not want to be reminded of _that_ birthday. To tell the truth, Lily only remembered about half of the actual party (she may or may not have had 6 shots of Vodka). But they all definitely remembered the aftermath. Because Lily was a good friend, she said nothing about it. She filed it away in a list of things she'd like to talk to Robin alone about. Instead, she just said, "Yeah, Barney always seems to love planning things for our birthdays. Whether we want him to or not."

"Well, that's a step anyway," James said, shifting his weight. "He used to hate all of them. But what I really meant was that Barney hates birthday parties that are for him."

Now Ted finally stopped working and looked at Lily and Robin quizzically. It didn't make sense to Lily either, so she just shrugged. They all looked to James intently. "What about all the crazy parties he told us he wouldn't invite us to?" Ted asked.

James swung the trash bag he was holding up onto the end table and let out a sigh, as though some things were just now coming together and it was upsetting him. He shook his head as if thinking to himself before looking back at the others. "Those never happened. Normally we just go over to Mom's for dinner. Just the three of us and that fake family of his. At least he's given _that_ up."

Lily and Ted exchanged looks. Some things seemed to be falling into place for Lily, too. Something about Barney's extra desperation to impress everyone tonight. She'd chalked it up to his infatuation with Robin, but come to think of it, he was acting that way before she came out to join the party, too.

Robin sat forward in her chair, elbows on her knees. "So instead of having awesome, magic-filled, stripper-infested parties, you're saying Barney has been hanging out at his Mom's pretending to be part of a fake happy family?" She didn't even have to say 'God, that's depressing'. Her tone conveyed that, and Lily nodded in agreement. Ted looked to be caught somewhere between still mad and suddenly contemplative.

James lowered himself onto the piano bench, shaking his head as he did. Finally, "Barney hasn't had a real birthday party since he turned nine."

Lily could feel a heaviness about to descend over the discussion, and she too took a seat on the couch. Quietly, she as set her bag on the floor, she asked, "What happened?"

At first James just shrugged. "It just wasn't a great party," he said, and because of her people-detecting skills, Lily could easily tell he was lying. Hell, even Robin can probably, because she looked skeptical but said nothing. "And when I was in high school, my parties usually consisted of my varsity football teammates coming over and hitting on our mom. Barney _hated_ that."

Ted scoffed, but only half-heartedly. "That sounds more like something Barney would do than something he would be mad about."

"You guys know he wasn't always like that," James said, a reminder. "You found out about the whole thing with Shannon, right?"

Lily couldn't help but look to Robin, hoping maybe to see some kind of reaction to the reminder that somewhere, deep inside Barney, there was a sensitive little sap. But Robin had a characteristic poker-face on. It's too damn good, but Lily had yet to really try to pry it off for fear that Robin might withdraw more. All Robin said was, "Yeah. We saw that tape he made her."

James nodded. "You know, I had a big hand in encouraging him to be a suit-wearing lothario. Which was a lot of fun for us at the time, but in retrospect it was never that great. I've figured that out, but Barney…" he trailed off, and Lily could tell he was trying hard not to say too much or look at Robin too directly.

Instead, he met her eyes, and she could tell James knew. Of course he knew, Barney wouldn't be able to hide that from his brother. But now Ted was eyeing them suspiciously, and she didn't think he knew about Barney's feelings for Robin. The last thing she wanted to do was break that to Ted. Especially not after seeing his reaction to Barney and Robin sleeping together. So she coughed a little too obviously and quickly thought of something to say. "So what was that about his ninth birthday?"

As soon as she asked, she wished she'd come up with a better deflection. Because James looked uncomfortable again and everyone could tell this must be a touchy subject. Still, Lily reasoned, it couldn't be any touchier than the subject of how Barney was hopelessly in love with Robin (who was still staying awfully quiet through this discussion, Lily noticed. It reminded her a lot of Robin's reactions to being questioned about sleeping with Barney. Lily really wished she could see inside that woman's head right now).

But even Ted had been reeled into this story by now, dropping his open anger at Barney for the sake of morbid curiosity. He sat down beside Lily, asking, "Was it really so bad that he didn't want to have any more birthday parties?"

James hesitated for several moments, weighing his options. But looking at the intent faces of Barney's friends, and lingering particularly on Robin, he seemed to decide maybe it would be worth it. "You guys have to promise not to let Barney know I told you this. And don't tell anyone else." Lily must have looked desperate, because James amended, "Except Marshall." They all nodded and James shifted on the piano bench before beginning. "I don't know how much Barney has told you about our mom…"

Lily tried to help. "We've heard from Barney and her that she used to be…" she looked to the others for help finding an appropriate word.

"A… woman of accommodating morals," Robin offered delicately.

"Nice way of putting it. She tends to say 'whore' herself," James added with a hint of a smile.

"She may have used those words," Ted agreed.

"Anyway," James continued, "you can probably imagine that didn't make the other parents all that comfortable with sending their kids over to play. That's partly how Barney and I wound up being so close. But for birthdays, parents tended to make an exception. So for his ninth birthday, Barney was doing his usual thing- card tricks, pulling a stuffed rabbit from a hat because no one in their right mind would have trusted him with a real one."

"That hasn't changed," Ted interjected.

"Remember that poor dove and the tiki torch trick?" Robin said, and Lily had to grimace along with Ted and Robin at the memory. They'd found scorched feathers on the ground at MacLaren's for days.

James laughed a little bit, though it was colored by the gravity of the story he was in the midst of. "Yeah, not a great track record with live props… but anyway, the party was going okay until Mom's current 'boyfriend'," it sounded like he was using the term very loosely, "stumbled out of the bedroom smelling like he'd spilt a whole medicine cabinet on himself. He started yelling at Mom about the noise. Barney tried to break the tension by doing a card trick for him. That just made him more mad." James paused momentarily, looking at the others who were listening with rapt attention. He was uncertain about whether he should continue. Lily was uncertain about whether she wanted to hear, but felt like she had to.

Finally, James said, "So the guy called Barney a little bastard and backhanded him." Lily's jaw went slack, and she could see Robin putting a hand over her mouth and Ted's eyes softening. "Mom called the cops and they got that asshole out of there, but the neighborhood parents definitely weren't letting their kids come over anymore. And Barney had a black eye for a couple weeks, which was enough time for everyone at school to find out what had happened. And you know how cruel kids can be."

Did Lily ever. "Even my five year olds have a bully streak."

"Having a jock older brother helped some," James explained, "but I couldn't be there all the time. Barney would just sort of take it until eventually he exploded..." it seemed to Lily that James stopped short of going into an entire other area of Barney's history. Even though she was perpetually curious, Lily was actually grateful he stopped. She wasn't sure if she could handle another disturbing revelation. "Anyway," James finished, "Barney never even asked about having a birthday party after that."

"Oh my God," Robin exclaimed in a whisper, dropping her hand from in front of her mouth.

"I wish I'd known." Ted sighed. "I just don't get why he suddenly decided to have this party."

"And why invite himself over to our place for it?" Robin asked, frowning even more than before. Lily had also felt it was out of line, even for Barney. But she only needed one guess to know Barney's main motivation for all the grandstanding. She tried not to look at Robin too pointedly.

James was a little less subtle. He looked right at Robin and replied, "Knowing how Barney thinks, probably because he knew then you'd have to come." Lily watched Robin squirm a little uncomfortably, before James looked to Ted and added seamlessly, "And you. And all of you. You're all like family to him. I mean, you see him a lot more than I do these days. And I'm sure sometimes – maybe a lot of the time – he seems like the annoying hyperactive kid in the family." He smiled just slightly. "Trust me, I know. Sometimes it's even hard for me to remember that for as many times as he's been hurtful and callous, he's also always there for me in the end."

A heavy realization had settled in over the room. Lily had had a similar feeling weighing her down since her roof conversation with Barney, but now it was even worse. Now she wished she had jumped to his defense right away instead of letting him escape. She would have gone to his apartment and given him a big hug if it weren't for the fact that she knew he was getting a lot more than a hug from the handcuff skank right now. Which somehow only made her more depressed.

After several moments of silence, Robin was the one to speak first. She looked at Ted and said, "He did get both of us our jobs…"

"And almost got killed coming to see me in the hospital." Ted grimaced in realization.

"And saved my marriage. And my wedding." Lily was not even hiding how forlorn she was feeling. "Maybe," she ventured, picking at the fabric of her jeans, "that kind of overrides being an egotistical jerk and accidentally setting someone on fire for one night."

There was a beat, then Ted spoke up. "Great. Now I feel like the jackass." Lily and Robin nodded in self-implicating agreement.

*****

It was nearly 4am before Marshall made it back to their apartment. As predicted, Lily was awake, knowing she still couldn't go to sleep without him there. She looked tired and sad, but Marshall was so wired and about to explode from Alistair's revelation that he couldn't stop himself from practically shouting as he closed the door. "Alistair's fine, mostly first degree, back at his place, taking the day off, and _Barney is in love with Robin!_" it all came out as a jumbled explosion of words.

"Oh?" Lily said, looking up at him in surprise, her melancholy face changed for one of shock. But not enough shock, he realized. She was surprised to hear him say the words, but Marshall knew Lily well enough to know this wasn't actually news to her.

His eyes widened even more. "You knew about this!" he exclaimed.

"What, no!" she replied indignantly. "All right, yes," she followed immediately.

"How could you keep that a secret?"

"I promised Barney I wouldn't tell anyone! And this seemed like a secret actually worth keeping for once. I didn't want him to get hurt," Lily protested. "Believe me, I wanted to tell you so badly."

Marshall's expression softened and he sank onto the couch beside her. "I just… wow. I don't know what to think about this." He looked over at her. "How long have you known?"

"Uh, just… not very… aaaah since September!" Lily was now utterly unable to hold back any of the details.

"_September?"_ Marshall wasn't sure what was more of a shock- the fact that Barney had had these feelings for that long or the fact that notoriously loose-lipped Lily had actually kept a secret for that long. "Aw, baby," Marshall pulled her to him and she curled up against his chest. "That must have sucked. But I understand why you did it. You're a good friend."

Lily let out a sigh against his chest. "I feel like a horrible friend right now."

Marshall realized what she must be talking about. "No joke. I mean, this totally explains why Barney has been even more bizarre lately. Having Alistair around must really suck. And especially at his birthday."

Lily pulled back, looking up at Marshall with that forlorn look again. "That's not the only thing," she began slowly. Then she proceeded to relay to Marshall a story James had apparently just told them all tonight about Barney's ninth birthday party and his subsequent aversion to birthdays. Marshall could only stare in silence.

By the end of the story, Marshall felt like he'd had the air sucked out of his lungs. He shook his head and finally managed to say, "Poor guy. I mean, I always knew his childhood sucked but I guess it's easy to forget when he never talks about it." He paused a second, for some reason thinking back to the slap bet and just how terrified Barney was of getting knocked across the face. It was funny.... maybe it wasn't funny. Maybe Barney had more of a history with getting smacked around than he'd realized. "I think I should retire the last two slaps," he said quietly. Lily's eyes registered the same realization he'd just had, and she nodded. Marshall settled his head on top on Lily's and he could sense her feeling the same remorse and pity that he was. "We really owe him an apology. I don't know how we can make it up to him, but we've gotta try."

"Yeah," Lily agreed quietly, "we really do."


	6. Chapter 6

Note: Thanks for your support and comments, guys. I didn't mean to sound whiny before. I was just wondering if you all who were getting story alerts were enjoying the fic or not. Thanks for the feedback!

* * *

Barney knew that something was terribly wrong with him even before he had identified the cause. He'd been feeling under the weather all week – achy, lethargic. He'd even woken up one night in a cold sweat. All in all, he was in a considerably less awesome state than he had any right to be. At first he tried to chalk it up to all the extra hours he was putting in at work and the inevitable stress that came along with anything involving the word 'nuclear'. But who was he kidding. That was a cakewalk, obviously.

Then he'd considered the possibility that it was that ailment all men dreaded – sex withdrawal. It certainly would make sense. The last chick he'd banged was that handcuff girl from his birthday party. And that had just been in the back of the cab on the way home. It had been even less satisfying than he would have predicted from his past desperate lonely birthday sex experiences. Normally he would have at least taken her upstairs and pretended to be turned on by the whole handcuff situation. Instead, he'd just wound up slipping out of the cuffs and excusing himself from the cab several blocks from his apartment, tossing some money at the cabbie to take whatever her name was back to wherever.

And now tonight, as Barney strolled from the subway to his apartment, listlessly breathing the cool night air, he was forced to acknowledge the magnitude of his problem. Because it was eight o'clock and Barney Stinson was not heading to a bar or dance club or even a strip joint. Instead, he was dragging his feet along the concrete in an effort to delay the inevitably depressing event of arriving at his home alone and eventually winding up half-drunk, staring blankly at an Iron Chef marathon for the second Friday in a row. At least this time he'd get to watch the whole thing. No pointless birthday parties to keep him from the first few hours.

Who was he kidding? He certainly didn't have the energy to fool himself anymore. The empty feeling reminded him too much of when Ted de-broed him for Barney to ignore. At least Ted hadn't gone nearly that far this time. And really, it was Barney's own self-imposed exile that was keeping him from MacLaren's or Ted and Robin's apartment this past week. Marshall had subtly asked about it at work, but Barney had insisted he was just too busy to hang out. Whether out of ignorance or some kind of pity, Marshall had let it slide. Either way, Barney had little desire to sit around sharing drinks with Alistair and Robin or to drop by an apartment his best friend had recently thrown him out of. He couldn't even muster the strength to try to spite them or flaunt some new friend in front of them. What was wrong with him?

Barney rubbed his bleary eyes as he made his way up the stairs (it made him feel more accomplished than the elevator). Fine, he reasoned. He might be accepting that his recent malaise had something to do with his avoidance of his friends. But that didn't mean he was going to _do_ anything about it. As he put his key in the lock, Barney instead made an informed decision to consciously pretend as if he were blissfully ignorant of the problem instead. A solid plan. Barney opened the door and flicked the lights on.

To see a man with a gun standing in the middle of the room.

"Ahh!" Barney screamed, jumping back against the door, which slammed shut loudly. "You'll never find the evidence! NEVER!" he shouted, spinning around in a panic and practically clawing at the door in a desperate attempt to find the knob and escape. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Actually… was that a _paw?_

"Barney! Dude, calm down!" Marshall shouted, kind of undermining his words with his volume. He did manage to spin Barney around to face him, though. And that did the trick.

Because then Barney saw what Marshall was wearing. His look of panic melted into a contorted mask of confusion. "Are you wearing a _Wookiee costume?_" he asked. Then Barney's eyes flicked over Marshall's shoulder to the man with the gun he'd seen silhouetted in the dim light. Which turned out to be Ted dressed in a distinctly Tatooine-style tunic and boots. Not to mention a really bad blonde wig. And beside him, Lily was smiling despite the fact that she was clearly wearing an Ewok costume. _Lame_.

Marshall took a step back in line with the others and smiled meekly. Barney looked over his three friends with increasing disbelief. "They didn't move Celebration V to my apartment without telling me, did they?"

"No, we just thought we'd get some use out of our old costumes," Marshall said with a shrug that was supposed to seem nonchalant but really just seemed suspicious.

"Yub nub," Lily agreed perkily.

Barney stepped forward, literally scratching his head. "Okay, not that it's ever a bad idea to wear a Star Wars costume," he said, "but uh, would it be weird to ask what the hell is going on?"

Ted laughed a little. "What, you're not used to coming home to people dressed as aliens or space farmers?" When Barney's eyebrows went up and his mouth opened in a way that clearly meant a _"well, actually…" _story was about to begin, Ted cut him off with a quick, "Don't answer that." Barney's face fell in begrudging concession, and Ted continued. "No, we just had a special birthday present to give you."

Barney slowly put his hands on his hips, shifting his weight and chewing on his lip as he looked over his friends' faces. They were apologetic even without saying anything. Still, he was more than a little surprised, and trying to keep his hopes down. After all, they'd made it very clear last Friday that they didn't even want to have him around for a while. But Barney couldn't help his hopefulness. "Present?" he said, sounding more excited than he probably should and immediately cursing himself for it. More calmly, he added, "What sort of present?"

The other three looked at each other, delaying. Lily shifted from foot to foot, finally starting slowly. "Well, we were kind of hoping to have… um…"

Just then, Barney heard the door behind him open. "Sorry I'm late, is Barney- woah." Robin stopped just short of running into Barney, clearly in a hurry and not expecting him to be right in front of the door. Instead she stood nearly touching him as he slowly turned around and took note of the costume she was wearing – white flowing dress, large silver belt, and hair done up in distinctly cinnamon-bun-like shape. His jaw nearly came unhinged in ecstatic disbelief.

"No way," Barney finally spat out gleefully, a smile spreading across his face.

"Way," Robin said, folding her arms across her chest in a way that let him know she meant business. "If I was going to be a part of this whole cosplay thing, I had to go all-out, right? And come on, Princess Leia? Pretty much the most kick-ass girl ever, right?"

Barney stopped himself from correcting that that would, in fact, be Robin herself. Instead he leered and drawled, "I dunno, Scherbatsky. If you'd _really_ been committed to the bit, you would have gone with Slave Leia." He raised his eyebrows suggestively, and Robin just rolled her eyes. Taking note of the uncomfortable pressure increasing in his chest and the feeling of the heat radiating from Robin's body so close to his, Barney pulled himself back to reality and turned towards the others. "This is great you guys. But I'm still not sure what you meant about a present…?" He tried not to sound too anxious about it.

Ted waved to his right, towards the windows and the armor standing in the corner. It was only then that Barney noticed another mannequin standing beside it. This one, however, was sporting something far more dashing. White collared shirt, tailored black vest (silk, by the look of it), tuxedo-style pants with red piping, patent leather boots. Even what appeared to be an ostrich-skin belt and gun-holster.

This time, Barney's face simply froze in an expression of shock. It was a few seconds before he could unfreeze his brain enough to step up and examine the clothing up close. As Barney ran his fingers over the fine material, he became quite certain that what he was seeing and feeling was real, lavish, and awesome. "A suit. A _Han Solo_ suit?!" he exclaimed, turning to his friends in stammering questioning. "But… how- wh – the--!!"

The others exchanged looks of knowing satisfaction at having successfully rendered Barney speechless. Marshall shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, you know. I know a guy. This great tailor in this kind of strange little pet store. Showed him some reference photos from _A New Hope_, and wouldn't you know it, he just happened to have your measurements." Marshall's satisfied smile was a mile wide, even as he tried to play it cool.

"Yeah, and don't forget the optional suit jacket," Ted said, grabbing a blue, cargo-pocketed but still sleek jacket off the back of the couch and handing it to Barney. "Modeled after his _Empire_ attire, obviously. You'll forgive the anachronism with the rest of the outfit, but we figured you needed something to complete it."

Barney stared down at the jacket in his hands. His mind was reeling already, but the news of them having gone to his personal tailor sobered him up. He looked between his friends and said, an edge of seriousness in his voice, "Guys, that must have cost a fortune." Barney's throat was tightening up involuntarily. Bad sign.

"Eh," Lily said with a dismissive wave, "what good's a Christmas bonus if you can't put it towards an expensive Star Wars suit, I always say." Barney looked at her with a flash of deeper appreciation. Lily smiled understandingly before he looked away.

"We just wanted to apologize…" Robin started, rubbing her hands together uncertainly.

"Apologize? What for?" Barney asked, trying to sound dismissively unfazed and cool.

"For being such jerks last week at your party. We shouldn't have been such jerks and kicked you out. We're sorry," Ted said plainly. Barney almost did a double-take at his friend's seeming 180 in tone from the last time they'd spoken. He wasn't sure what had changed, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was a mutual revelation between them. He tried not to become too paranoid over what it might be.

"And you know, I remembered your stormtrooper-" Lily began, but Marshall cut in.

"Okay, technically that's a clonetrooper. I'm kind of disappointed that you didn't notice that."

Barney saw this as a welcome distraction from the tightening feeling in his whole torso. Besides, the dude totally had a point. "Yeah, these guys can actually aim. Which is a great side effect to being copies of Jango Fett," Barney pointed out in a _duh_ voice.

"Wait, wait," Ted jumped in, holding his arms out. "Are you guys actually defending the _prequel_ versions of the classic Imperial foot soldier? C'mon, don't tell me you actually _liked_ the prequels!"

Barney and Marshall exchanged glances before simultaneously scoffing, "What? No way!" "That's crazy!" "Definitely not!" A silence fell over the group as the two men awkwardly shifted under Ted's disbelieving stare.

After a minute, Lily quietly admitted, "Prequel Obi-Wan was pretty awesome, though."

"It gave Peter Mayhew the chance to reprise his beloved role as Chewbacca," Marshall added tentatively.

"Natalie Portman. Black leather tube top. Enough said," Barney added confidently.

"Yeah, and I always liked that guy with the floppy ears," Robin added. "What was his name…Jar something." Everyone slowly turned to simultaneously glare at her as though she'd just let out of a string of curses in church. "…no?" she asked meekly, then coughed. "Er, gonna give that suit the old test drive there Barney?" She was clearly floundering, which somehow managed to be adorable. Barney tried not to let his smile reach his eyes, but failed miserably.

"Ah, wait," Lily said suddenly, remembering something. "Marshall has something else to give you, Barney."

Marshall nodded in sudden realization. "Oh, right. That. Thanks Lil," he said, then took a step towards Barney and slowly raised both his hands/paws. Barney couldn't stop his natural tendency to flinch. He swore he saw Marshall noticing that and looking a little saddened by it, but that was probably just his mind playing tricks on him. Then Marshall quickly and gently tapped Barney on either cheek in succession. "Four, Five," he said, then patted Barney on the shoulder and smiled good-naturedly.

"As Slap Bet commissioner," Lily said, sidling up to Marshall and wrapping an arm around him, "I officially declare the slap bet of 2006 settled and ended."

Barney just looked at them incredulously. "Really," he said skeptically, "that was it?"

"That was it," Marshall said matter-of-factly.

Barney couldn't shake the feeling that they were just trying to lull him into complacency. After the trouble Marshall had gone through to torture him with the last slap, he wouldn't put it beyond him. "I see what you're doing," Barney replied suspiciously.

"Seriously," Robin said sincerely, surprising Barney by jumping in. What did she care about the slap bet? But when he looked at her, he couldn't help but notice a softening in her expression. "He's not going to slap you any more." Barney looked at the others, and noticed both Ted and Lily nodding in affirmation. There was something more in all of their eyes. Barney couldn't be imagining that. Almost a knowing, quiet sympathy, the implications of which made Barney distinctly uncomfortable. He hated feeling like people were talking about him behind his back. Though it hadn't ever really occurred to him that people might say _good_ things about someone behind their back…

Barney cleared his throat and threw a superior expression back onto his face. "Well I hope you've learned your lesson, Marshall. Never slap bet the Barnacle. No matter how much you torture him, he will not waver."

Robin rolled her eyes and said, "Oh good grief, would you just put your costume on? We have to get going."

"Going where?" Barney couldn't keep an edge of worry out of his voice. He should have realized that Robin in particular probably had to get some sleep before work. And the others, he reasoned, were probably about ready to crash due to mental old age.

"Uh, laser tag. Duh," Ted replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Barney's eyes both lit up and softened at the same time, his face beginning to form a child-like expression of pure joy. "Really?" he ventured carefully, somehow sure this was all still part of a cruel joke. If the others noticed, they didn't point it out, instead remaining extra casual and matter-of-fact.

"Come on, dude," Marshall replied, "it's not like we put on Star Wars costumes for no reason, most of the time."

"You're wasting precious clobbering time, Barney," Lily said with her typical bossy, exasperated older sister tone.

"Yeah, don't tell me we're going to have to experience the most awesome birthday, part 2, without the birthday boy," Ted replied.

Barney stared at his friends for what seemed like a very long few seconds. He took in the amiable smirks on their faces, considered the gentle ribbing tones in their voices. The kind of mutual making fun that was the status quo between really good friends. And when he studied their faces this time, that's all he saw. Not annoyance. Not jokes merely at his expense. But the quiet understanding of genuine affection and apologetic atonement that could go without being spoken. Barney looked down quietly at the jacket in his hands. And for the first time in a long time, Barney felt truly cared for.

He could feel a lump forming next to his windpipe, making it a little hard to get air. Even his eyes involuntarily itched. He tried his best to hold it together, but when he spoke, his voice still came out slightly choked. "Yeah. Definitely…" he trailed off, gripping the fabric of the jacket tighter to try to stave off the flood of unacceptably gushy feelings welling up inside of him. He must have seemed pathetic. And of course his friends would notice.

But when Barney looked up, he realized what the best thing about his friends was. Because they didn't stare at him skeptically. They didn't laugh. In fact, they didn't even acknowledge his sudden transformation into an eight year old girl. Instead, his friends did exactly what he needed them to and completely ignored it. And were even willing to help him out with the ruse.

"You can keep stalling, Solo," Robin drawled, spinning her plastic blaster expertly around her finger and taking a step towards Barney. "But you're only delaying the inevitable beat down I'm going to give your skinny little ass out on that field."

God, he loved that woman. Even if it was utterly futile to. She gave Barney the chance to play along. And he gladly accepted the distraction, welcoming any opportunity to slip into a role. Especially one made eternally awesome by Harrison Ford.

Slinging the jacket over his shoulder, grinning his best crooked Han smirk and stepping in close to Robin, Barney leered, "Didn't know you into that, sweetheart." With a wink, He smoothly waltzed over to the mannequin, grabbed it under one arm, and headed towards his bedroom to change.


	7. Chapter 7

Robin clutched the blaster tightly in her hand, throwing a glance over her shoulder towards their objective. The enemy base consisted of a kind of gazebo-like structure with a red flashing light on the underside of the roof. Ted was back guarding their own base while the rest of them were on an offensive strike. Maybe it should have seemed silly – okay, _definitely_ should have, between the costumes and all the plywood. But Robin couldn't help the fact that anytime she held a gun, no matter how fake, it got her adrenaline pumping.

Ducking down again, she turned to Marshall and Lily who were crouched down at her right. "Did you see Barney?" Marshall asked, sweat rolling down his face (that Wookiee suit was probably a little warm by now, Robin realized).

"Negative," Robin said curtly, all militaristic. The others were into the act, too, and listened with serious expressions as she continued dramatically, "He must be out of visual range. We'll have to send a scout to link up with him."

Marshall peered over the top edge of the barrier. "There are two sentries posted right outside the base. I don't think anyone's gonna make it to the other side. To connect with Barney."

He sounded genuinely concerned, and if Robin were looking at this objectively, she'd probably think they had all been pulled into some strange vortex of Barney's that turned them all 12 again and would realize how odd this was. On the other hand, she was holding a _gun_, dammit. "It's not worth the risk. We'll have to signal Barney some other way." She let out a sigh, trying to think.

But Lily was having none of it. Gritting her teeth together, she turned around and got on the balls of her (hairy Ewok) feet, ready to strike. "We're not letting those little Imperial bastards stop us," she ground out with a kind of ferociousness someone who didn't know her very well would never expect to see. She turned to Marshall and said in a low voice, "I'll see you on the other side." With that, Lily let out a wild battle cry as she leapt over the barrier, gun firing aimlessly.

"Lily, nooooo!" Marshall shouted, leaping up clumsily after her. Robin peaked wide-eyed over the barrier as she watched Marshall try to throw himself in front of his wife, using his body as a shield. It all happened as if in slow motion (probably the adrenaline still working, or maybe just having seen too many action movies). Robin saw Marshall fly through the air then practically face-plant onto the floor in front of Lily. That was probably going to hurt in the morning, the adult part of Robin's brain reasoned. But more importantly… Marshall's vest lights flashed, indicating a hit. Robin could only watch helplessly as the little brat shot a distracted Lily, too. Robin began wondering if she should retreat towards the base and regroup with Ted. Barney was still nowhere in sight. They might have to declare him MIA.

"Aw, man," Lily said in disappointment as she looked down at both her and her husband's rapidly blinking vests. "I really wanted to shoot someone."

Marshall sat up, patting Lily on the head. "I know, baby," he reassured her. "You still kicked ass. And now maybe we could get some nachos?" he looked at her expectantly.

"Miss Aldrin?" the boy still pointing the gun at Lily asked.

Lily looked over at him, her jaw going slack and her voice getting higher with surprise. "Timmy! What are you doing out so late?"

Robin squinted at the kid. He was pretty small. Wait, was he one of Lily's _students_? Geez, it was pretty late for a six year old to be out fake-shooting people. Some people really needed to learn basic parenting skills. While she was thinking this, Robin took the opportunity to shoot Timmy in the chest. She let out a quiet "Yes!" as she saw his vest light up. The boy stared dumbfounded at Lily and Marshall, who only shrugged. The kid sulked off as Marshall and Lily happily got up and followed him out towards the lobby and, no doubt, food.

Robin smirked to herself. Was it wrong to feel satisfied that she'd beaten a six year old at his own game? Maybe Barney was rubbing off on her. She felt a small twinge of guilt as she realized it was probably now officially hypocritical to have called his magic show immature.

Still, if you were going to latch onto your inner child, why not go all out? Robin focused her attention back on the game. Maybe the tide was turning in their favor after all. Just one kid left inside the base. But it was going to be pretty hard to launch an attack all by herself. Now if only she could find-

And then she saw him, near the top of her vision. It was just a flash of movement at first, but then their eyes connected and she could see Barney motioning for her to be quiet. Which was no problem, since Robin was stunned into silence by the fact that he was _crawling on the roof_ of the base. How had he even gotten up there? I mean, sure this place was mostly designed for people around 4 feet tall, but still, that was a good 9 feet up. His toes were hooked over one side of the structure and he was leaning head-first over the other side. If he stretched his body out, he'd be able to dangle over the side and get a shot in at the enemy base. But his chest target would also be exposed, she realized. They'd have to plan this carefully.

Once Barney seemed sure that he had Robin's attention, he signalled questioningly towards the base below him. Robin realized he couldn't see who was in there, so she held up one finger to indicate the last sentry was still there. For a moment, they locked eyes, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. When she saw him shake his head ever so slightly and mouth 'don't be a hero', Robin knew they _were_ thinking the same thing. She wasn't going to let him dissuade her this time, though. This was serious. There was, like, a really large stuffed alligator on the line here.

Barney's look changed to one of resignation as he realized he wasn't going to stop her. He gave her a slight nod and a forlorn look as she readied herself. They held one another's gazes for a moment longer. Then, with a shout, Robin hurtled over the barrier and angled her way across the room. She made enough of a commotion to get the guard (who looked to be about 11) to take the bait. He stepped out from his hiding spot to fire at her. Robin spun around and tried to make her way towards a pillar for cover. As she did, she saw Barney drop his upper body down over the edge of the base. The kid must have heard him, because he spun around to take aim at Barney's chest.

But it was too late. The large red light in the center of the base began flashing wildly and alarms sounded. "Hahahaha!" Barney cackled victoriously, still hanging upside down over the edge of the roof, his face starting to turn red. "Suck it, Michael! In your face!"

The pre-teen glared at Barney as he skulked towards the exit. "Douchebag," he muttered on his way out.

"Hey!" Robin exclaimed as she walked past the kid and towards Barney, who was now craning his neck to look up/forward at her. The grin on his face was a mile wide as he slowly held out a hand. Robin couldn't help but smirk as she reached up and gave him a high-five. "Nice work, Stinson."

"Teamwork, Scherbatsky. Teamwork." Barney looked down at the floor and bit his lip, realizing he was now going to have to find a way to either drop down or climb up. Robin's lips twitched in amusement as she watched him waving his arms around in an attempt to reach out for a nearby wall. After several tries, he managed to brace his hands against it. He stopped for a moment, assessing the situation before apparently deciding jumping head-first towards the ground wasn't an option. Barney's face twisted in concentration and he made little puffing sounds of exertion as he slowly pulled himself backwards onto his hands and knees on the gazebo. Robin covered her mouth with a hand to keep herself from laughing as he finally collapsed backwards into a seated position.

Barney wiped some sweat away with the back of his hand as he looked down at her. "Hey, it's harder than it looks," he said defensively. "But I am obviously just as capable of going all guerilla warfare as Harrison Ford was at my age." To punctuate his claim, Barney hopped down from the roof swiftly. Robin could see his smug smirk twitch a little as he tried to cover the fact that he was biting the inside of his cheek.

"Obviously," she replied with a small smile.

"Dude, that was epic," Marshall said, re-entering with Lily from the hallway.

"You saw it?" Robin asked.

"There's a closed-circuit feed on the TV in the game room," Lily explained with a chipper smile. Then her face twisted in thought. "Which actually is kind of creepy," she realized.

Barney ignored the comment, clearly still basking in the glow of victory, and Robin couldn't blame him. She was still feeling a little high on adrenaline herself. "I am so buying the tape of this game," Barney exclaimed, pumping a fist in the air in excitement.

"We won, right?" Ted asked, fumbling clumsily over a few barricades as he rushed towards the others. "We better have after I just spent the last 20 minutes fighting off an entire army of third graders. Seriously, guys, I could have used some help back there." Robin noticed his blonde wig was a little askew. And had his tunic somehow acquired _grease stains_?

"Ted," Barney said with a shake of his head, "you have to take _action_ in this game. Carpe diem, my friend." Ted just shrugged in acquiescence. "Still, come on. This is pretty legendary, right?"

Ted broke out into a smile as they all looked at each other. Robin couldn't help but feel extra hyped by the infectious happiness that was going around tonight. It was a good feeling. One she realized she had been missing lately from the group, though she didn't quite know why. "Yes, Barney," Ted acknowledged, "As crazy as it seems, for once I think this may be an appropriate use of the term."

"Yes!" Barney said, giving Ted an enthusiastic high-five. "I told you guys!" He punched the air, and Robin couldn't help but feel his vindication. She had been very skeptical of the whole laser tag thing, too, until that first night she'd bro-ed out and gone with Barney. As she thought about that night, her smile faltered. Then she wondered why she should suddenly be phased by the memory of Barney just… being Barney, nothing more. That had just been a weird misunderstanding. Robin forced her smile back in place, willing herself to hang onto her excitement.

"So, one more game?" Robin asked, more than ready to shoot some more little snobs.

But Barney was shaking his head, "Unfortunately this place is totally lame and closes at one. And it is," he looked at his watch, "twelve fifty."

"Wow, already?" Robin had no idea where the time had gone. Had they really been playing for three hours? No wonder her cinnamon-bun hair was threatening to come completely undone. Not to mention the fact that, now that she looked at it, her white Leia dress was kind of sweaty. She frowned. Not the most attractive look.

"Yeah, it was great man, but I am really wiped out," Ted told Barney. "I am about ready to pass out." He stretched and yawned loudly.

"Whatever," Barney scoffed, swinging his arms around as if preparing for a race. "Some of us still have the bodies of much younger men." Ted raised an eyebrow at his friend doubtfully but said nothing. "Fine, fine. See you later, gramps."

"Night, Barney. Happy birthday," Ted said with a smile as he turned and headed towards the exit.

Marshall and Lily shifted a little awkwardly as they looked at Barney and Robin. "Yeah, and we uh, have to make our bed," Marshall said with a nod. "Before we unmake it. And get into bed. To go to sleep… but the bed-making process is a lot more complicated than you might think."

Barney rolled his eyes, "Oh, just go have sex already!"

Lily blushed a little but couldn't help but shrug as she exchanged looks with Marshall. Then she broke out of her husband's grasp to give Barney a hug. "Happy birthday, Barney," she said, patting him on the back. "Have a good rest of the night." Was that a tiny, patently Lily twinkle Robin saw in her friend's eye? Maybe she was imagining it. Barney gave Lily an unreadable look and she stepped back, casually pulling Marshall towards the door. It was a little awkward… no, Robin was definitely just imagining that. She hadn't slept, after all.

Marshall let out a Wookiee-call, seemingly unable to resist one last chance to play up the Han/Chewie bit. "Later, pal," Barney said with a wave as his friends disappeared around the corner. Robin observed just how happy Barney looked. He had that same stupid, sloppy grin on his face that he had when they first gave him the suit. It was almost… well, she never applied the word 'cute' to a grown man. But then, she realized, Barney wasn't exactly a grown man when it came to his emotions. Robin couldn't help but think of the story James had told them. It seemed to put Barney's current childlike glee in perspective.

Barney finally seemed to notice that Robin was staring at him, and gave her a slightly quizzical look. She waved it away, and Barney was still too jazzed to give it much thought. He wasn't doing a very good job of playing it suave, but he also didn't really seem to care. "How much cooler is this in costume?" he asked, brimming with excitement.

Robin couldn't help but smile even wider than she already was. His enthusiasm seemed to be contagious tonight. "I wasn't sure it was possible," she replied, "but you're right. Star Wars laser tag is even better than normal laser tag."

As he stared at her, Barney's smile seemed to shift, like he was coming down from his high a little and back to reality. She noticed his eyes studying her questioningly all of a sudden. How did he do that, shape shift so suddenly like that? Robin wasn't sure she would ever understand it, or even get used to it. An odd moment passed between them and Robin was frozen with who knew what emotion. She had the strangest idea that Barney was going to ask her something that might qualify as 'heavy'. It shouldn't bother her so much for a grown friend to speak to her seriously, but this was_ Barney_. As soon as she thought it, though, Robin admonished herself. Hadn't they just touched on this with James? It was easy sometimes to forget that Barney was an adult with complex emotions just like the rest of them. And James had said they were like Barney's family… So Robin shut up and waited for him to talk.

But whatever moment she thought was there had passed. Instead Barney just asked, "Hey, what have you been doing up this whole time anyway? Shouldn't you just be getting up from a good evening's sleep to head to the Saturday morning taping?"

Robin couldn't help feeling relieved. That was a question she was okay with handling. But a pang of guilt passed through her as well as a small part of her realized that she shouldn't feel so happy about contributing to Barney's emotional reluctance. Still, maybe she was just completely over thinking this. Not something she liked to do. Robin shook her head a little, unsure what in the world else she had thought Barney was going to say. "Uh, yeah, normally." She just shrugged. "But it's just one night's sleep. And it was worth it."

The smile that settled over Barney's face was less jazzed little kid now, and more genuinely appreciative adult. "Thanks again," he said. There was a pause, and he shifted his weight uneasily. Then he abruptly turned and started walking towards the exit to the lobby. "We'd better get out of here before we get dragged out. Besides, you should probably get back and at least take a nap before you go to work."

Following him, Robin replied, "At this point it's probably better just to stay awake. Besides, like I could sleep after that ass-kicking we delivered. I'm pumped."

Barney glanced at her sideways with a kind of appraisal. The way he usually looked at her when she said something particularly inappropriate or maybe a little immature. The kind of comments only _he _would appreciate, she thought. That reassured her, to know that she was right to think that, deep down, Barney Stinson was essentially still nine years old. James was right that Barney was a better friend than they often gave him credit for. But that didn't automatically make him some kind of deep reservoir of conflicting emotion. Some people just really were what you thought they were. Right?

Robin came back to earth when Barney spoke up. "Well, in that case," he ventured, "we have to make sure you don't fall asleep." There was a beat. "You know Scherbatsky, _one_ way I could keep you up-"

"No, Barney," she cut in flatly.

He chuckled, that full, throaty chuckle of his that sometimes superseded his childish giggle and was decidedly more masculine and mature. And right now it unsettled Robin, set her on edge. She had no idea why. "Fine," Barney conceded, "But there is an IHOP near here. You wouldn't say no to a short stack of pancakes would you?"

"With maple syrup?"

"Naturally."

"Hell yeah. Who in their right mind would say no to that?"

And there it was. That full-bodied laugh of his again, kind of like a good red wine, Robin mused. Then concluded she must be sleep deprived to even ponder Barney's laugh, little less make weird drink analogies out of it. Robin came back to sanity in time to hear the laugh punctuated this time by a small scoff. "Canada," Barney said, shaking his head and already leaning to the side to avoid the playful smack in the arm he had somehow known was coming.


	8. Chapter 8

For all the Canada jokes her friends made and how old they sometimes got, Robin admitted they wouldn't be funny unless there was some truth to them. And as she stuffed a huge bite of buttermilk pancakes with maple syrup into her mouth, savoring the fluffy goodness, she had to concede the point that, yes, okay, Canadians thought this was an amazing food. How could that possibly be a negative? Pancakes were legitimately _delicious_.

Barney raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of orange juice. "Easy there, Scherbatsky," he cautioned. "You know that stuff literally grows on trees. They're not gonna run out." She watched him cut off a small bite of his omelet. Which of course was made with egg-whites and lean turkey. Had to watch his diet, apparently…For a man-whore, he could be such a woman.

Robin washed her magnificent bite of syrup and sugar down with a gulp of water. "You're the one who invited a Canadian out for pancakes," she pointed out. "Gasoline on a fire, dude."

He laughed, and she couldn't help but enjoy the sound immensely. He hadn't been doing a lot of that this last week or so. Not that she'd even seen him much. Robin had been spending a lot of time with Alistair and Barney had been… well, who ever knew where Barney went when he disappeared. Things had been a little weird before the birthday party, but that whole incident had really messed things up. Robin had felt so bad after hearing James's story that she hadn't really been sure they should wait a whole week until Barney's present was done before they went to apologize. But seeing Barney's sheer joy at the presentation of the suit was enough to convince her it was an apology worth the wait.

"Fire does not consume food at that rate," Barney replied, gesturing to Robin's plate. "Trust me, I've thrown gasoline on an actual fire before." For some reason, Robin didn't doubt or question that.

"Hey," she objected between bites, "if I were you I'd be nicer to the person who helped you win an epic game of laser tag. And," she motioned to the giant stuffed alligator he had sat next to him in the booth, "that thing."

Barney patted the prize toy gently on the head. "You're right. We mustn't lose site of what's important here. And that is the fact that, after all these years, I can finally put Mr. Gator in a place of honor in my apartment."

She couldn't help smirking at his mock-seriousness. "Right, along with all your other prized stuffed animals?" she commented off-handedly.

"What?" Barney sat up straighter. Was it her imagination, or did he seem genuinely alarmed? "Pft, who told you I had other stuffed animals? Wait, did Lily find out—no, never mind." He quickly cut himself off with a gulp of orange juice. Robin eyed him suspiciously, very slowly taking another bite of pancake as he stared her down with an odd mixture of nonchalance and panic. But Robin decided not to ask, and she swore she saw Barney's shoulders relax. "Ah, well, point taken. Eat up."

"You really work up an appetite playing that game," Robin insisted as she took a smaller, slower bite this time, savoring her food instead of inhaling it.

Barney just sat back in the booth, smiling as he watched her eat. Since when did he do that? For some reason, she flashed back to that night out at that fancy restaurant, when he had been acting so oddly. Her gut reaction was one of worry. But then Robin reminded herself of what James had said, about the group being like Barney's family to him. When they all thought about it, the really nice things Barney had gone well out of his way to do for them truly did add up. When they'd first met she used to think it bordered on pathetic sometimes how much he seemed to crave the approval and friendship of the group. But she was starting to realize just how true his caring for all of them was.

Barney must have noticed her slipping into a contemplative state, because his features scrunched up in tentative concern. "What's up, Scherbatsky?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing, I was just thinking." She smiled. "I'm glad this party went a lot better than the one last week."

"Not hard to top," Barney replied wryly. "We kept everyone out of the ER this time, so that's an autowin."

"It's not just that," she insisted, sounding a little more serious than she'd realized she was feeling. Barney obviously noticed, because he paused with his orange juice glass halfway to his lips. Robin continued, "We just really didn't have the right attitude about your party last week." Barney let the glass lower down to the table as he listened silently. "I mean, you _did_ hit my boyfriend with a flaming stick. But I know that was an accident. Still, the way we acted was pretty shitty. Kicking you out like that. I'm sorry."

He shifted a little in his seat, seeming like he was wavering between going into that odd serious Barney territory or back to his normal self. Finally, he settled for a smile that was only half-sleazy as he said, "Hey, I've had plenty of chicks kick me out of their apartments before. I'm used to it."

"Hey, I know, I'm one of them, remember?" she quipped without thinking. As soon as it was out, she wondered why the hell she'd said that. She blamed it on all this _thinking_ about Barney as a friend and actual adult with feelings. As she looked at him, decked out as Han Solo, seated next to a giant stuffed alligator, she realized how much easier he made it to just picture him as a kind of hyper kid who clung to the cool kids. And not someone she had seriously opened herself up to and had a weirdly mature experience with… jeez, was that a year ago now?

Robin was too caught up in her sudden internal panic over her gaffe to really notice how Barney responded right away. When she came back to reality, he was laughing dryly. "Yeah, you… point." He took a large bite of omelet, and she felt the need to return things to normalcy.

"You're that old now that you're having trouble stringing together coherent sentences?" she teased lightly, praying that he would pick up on the signal to please, please skip the awkwardness and return to normal.

He obliged. Of course he did. This was Barney. "Ha!" he laughed a little too loudly. "I will have you know that I am reaching a totally dignified age."

"Really?" she asked challengingly. "You realize that you are almost halfway through your thirties. And," she added, "that you are actually closer to 40 now than you are to my age?" she raised one eyebrow, savoring the effect that little jab might have on him.

And yep, she saw a small shudder run over his shoulders. He gritted his teeth and popped his neck in that anxious way he sometimes did. "Yeah… well..." he stammered, "and you're almost _thirty!_" he said it like it was the foulest thing that could have come out of his mouth.

She tried not to let on that, okay, that did make her a little nervous. Because he was still being ridiculous. "How does it even make sense for you to call people younger than you old?"

He scoffed loudly. "Robin, please. I'm a dude. 34 is, like I said, a dignified age for a guy. And let's be frank, I'm kind of hitting it out of the ballpark." He gestured with one hand at his body. "But for chicks, 30 is the dreaded expiration. The 'use by' date."

"Gee Barney, that's charming. I can't imagine why you ever get drinks thrown in your face," Robin said flatly.

But he only shrugged casually. "Hey, just telling you the facts as guys see them. A couple more years and you're through. I'm just saying," he pushed his eggs around on his plate nonchalantly, "if I were you, I'd be locking someone down before it was too late. Rope some poor sap into a lifetime of monogamy while you still have the feminine wiles to do it."

Her eyes narrowed slowly. "Wait, am I hearing this correctly?" she asked. Then, very deliberately, "Is Barney Stinson actually advising me to _marry someone_?"

His eyes widened a little as he realized what he was saying. And, most likely, how deeply it offended his core virtues. "No. No, definitely not." Barney sounded very insistent about that, and Robin gave him a suspicious look. He was getting nervous, and starting to talk quickly. "Just saying the age thing, it's a big deal, you should be aware of it and-- but seriously, _don't _get married." That came out all in one breath, with a little too much emphasis on the last part. "Because, you know… one less real bro left," Barney explained, gulping.

Robin couldn't quite figure out what had brought that on. She guessed the idea of all of his friends joining in on evil marriage alliances and abandoning him factored into his whole need to be needed. "Barney, what in the world makes you think that I, of all people, am thinking about getting married? I mean, who do you think I am, Ted? That's crazy." She sounded a little too much like she was trying to convince herself. Where had that come from? But she knew exactly where, she just refused to acknowledge it.

Even with her pretty good poker face when it came to feelings-related issues, Robin got the sense that Barney was onto her. He slowly wiped his mouth with a napkin and raised his eyebrows at her in a silent question. Dammit. Okay, but this was Barney. If she pretended like there was nothing there to talk about and instead started a discussion on Lando Calrissian's awesome cape, she knew he would gladly join in. That was Barney's main asset as a friend – his ability to distract you from real issues with one of his many inconsequential ramblings or theories or jokes.

And yet, the way he was looking at her, with that open expression, willing to truly listen, reminded her that Barney was more than just a fun guy to hang around. As she'd gotten to know him, this had been a difficult side of him to accept. But considering what they knew of Barney's track record with any kind of personal attachments, maybe what he really needed out of his friends wasn't just to laugh at his jokes, or even to throw him an awesome party. Maybe he needed their trust. What was it he'd said that one night? He wanted to be someone she could have an actual conversation with. She knew from experience that he actually could be a good listener when he wanted to be. He'd been there for her during the whole Simon thing… not that she wanted to think about _that_ night and all the weirdness of it any more than she had to. That didn't get acknowledged, not even to herself.

Finally, Robin let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding (on account of the marriage topic, definitely not the 'one night that didn't happen' topic). "Okay, you're probably going to think this is stupid," she picked at the edge of the plastic table cloth.

Barney cocked his head to one side, studying her genuinely. "Hey, even when you're a little stupid, you're still one hundred percent awesome."

She looked up, catching the friendly warmth in his expression. It triggered a small smile from her. "It's just… I don't know, lately I've been thinking that this whole single life thing is great for your early 20s, but that maybe, _eventually_, I might be… willing to settle down."

Robin would have expected some kind of disdain or outrage on Barney's part. But instead, he said nothing, and Robin couldn't quite read his expression. She was pretty sure whatever one was up right now was a mask for something else anyway. So maybe he really was disgusted and she just had no way of knowing. God, that man was frustrating. Finally, Barney shrugged, just _shrugged_ and said, "Well that's probably natural, isn't it?"

"Natural?" Robin couldn't help but sound as dumbfounded as she felt. Barney had a serious side but he was still _Barney_ after all. And unless he'd had a personality transplant she was unaware of, Barney Stinson was still the most anti-marriage person on the planet.

He sighed as he set his fork down on his plate. "Look, I've seen the grim statistics. I know the majority of people my age are already married." He paused, and she noticed him drumming his fingers on the table as he continued, "And that's actually one of the reasons for the age 30 cutoff I usually stick to. Because honestly, there are attractive women over 30. But most of them are off the market by then."

Robin considered that for a moment and thought she might be losing her mind because that actually make sense to her. It was strange, because it seemed like this should be one of Barney's irreverent "theories", but it wasn't coming across that way. She wasn't quite sure how to qualify what it was coming across as, though. Maybe… resignation? "So," Robin started jokingly, "statistically the older I get without being married, the more prized I will be since I will be like the only 10 my age left?"

Barney smirked, "Something like that." They shared a smile, which he broke after a moment by looking down at the table. "Can I ask, though… what brought this whole thing on?" He gave her a mostly joking but, she could have sworn, slightly concerned look. "Don't tell me you've somehow fallen deeply in love with the Crown Prince of Queensland after just a couple of weeks."

"Alistair? No," she said, firmly and honestly. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I like him and all, but this has nothing to do with him. I mean, it's not like I have anyone specific in mind at all. I just…" Oh boy. She was getting ready to head into super secret territory. The kinds of _feelings_ related incidents Robin rarely shared with anyone. Lily, sometimes. But she hadn't told Lily about this. But here was Barney, lending such a genuinely sympathetic ear. Hadn't she just been thinking he deserved more of her friendship and trust? He was waiting, not prying, as Robin debated then finally decided, what the hell. "I had this weird conversation with Ted a couple weeks ago."

"Oh?" Barney asked, not able to hide the surprise on his face even as he tried to cover by draining the last of his orange juice.

"Yeah," Robin waved a hand dismissively, "It's stupid. I don't know why I'm acting like it's some big secret, because it's nothing. He and I were just having a conversation about marriage, which of course he's crazy about. And I mean, like I said, I might be warming up to the idea of _eventually_ settling down for the right guy."

"So… you talked to Ted about your caving morals," Barney joked lightly. "But I'm sensing that wouldn't be enough to get you so flustered about this. C'mon, what's up?" He probed, sounding a mixture of intrigued by and afraid of her answer.

Robin was once again pleasantly surprised at Barney's maturity and even thankful for his gentle teasing. Her shoulders relaxed as she realized that of course there was no reason she couldn't talk to her good friend about this. He wasn't going to laugh at her or flip out. "Okay," she finally started, "this sounds completely cheesy, but we kind of wound up making a sort of pact."

"A pact? So you spat in your palms then shook hands?"

"Something like that," she said with a half-smile. A moment of hesitation, then, "We agreed that if we got to 40 and weren't married that we'd just marry each other." She shrugged, making it sound as casual as possible. Because it was casual. She eyed Barney closely for his reaction, though.

As predicted, he looked pretty surprised. "Ah, okay. That's… interesting," he replied non-committally. He was searching her out before deciding how to react, it seemed. "Well, were you serious?"

"No!" Robin replied a little too emphatically. "I mean, who does something like that seriously? That's way too romantic comedy even for Ted." She _hoped_ Ted wouldn't be that stupidly romantic anyway, and in an odd moment, thought she saw the same thing go through Barney's mind. "I mean, I guess if it came to that, Ted would kind of be my only hope." She expected Barney to conceded that point at least, but he was strangely silent. "But come on, there is zero chance that Ted still won't be married by the time he's 40. He's more likely to have a Russian bride shipped over and fall deeply, genuinely in love with her." Robin laughed and took the last bite of her pancakes.

Barney shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Maybe it had been a mistake for Robin to tell him about this. Clearly anything involving romantic pacts or pledges was going to give him the heebie jeebies. But still, after some squirming and contemplation, he seemed to brush it off. "No kiddin'," he said, a little bit of his normal joking voice seeping in, "Frankly I'm surprised he hasn't tried it yet, and you are by no means to mention it to him even him even in jest. We don't need to give him ideas."

"Deal," she said, feeling relaxed by hearing Barney joke.

"So okay," Barney said, trying to sort this out for himself more than for her. "You made this half-serious pact with Ted which is never going to matter because he's more likely to marry Janet Reno than to get to 40 without a wife." Robin laughed at that, but Barney was still eyeing her carefully. "And that's the whole deal?" The slightly arched eyebrow, the intensity of his stare told her he could sense there was more. Maybe she should have reminded herself earlier that Barney had a sixth sense for sniffing out women's vulnerabilities and secrets.

Then again, did that always have to be a bad thing? The memory of that _talk_ she'd had with Barney over the Simon breakup came back to her once again, as unbidden as always. He had sensed something deeper was up then. Had been a really good friend. And hell, she'd almost gone to him again during Ted's almost-wedding in yet another moment of vulnerability and need. That hadn't exactly turned out well, but this time Barney was sitting right in front of her, fully clothed, and there were no naked women in the room. It still didn't entirely feel safe – or normal, for that matter – to spill a secret to Barney, but really, what was the harm? Amazingly, he could be discrete. He'd never blabbed about her original confession that she had feelings for Ted, all those years back. Of course, she'd also never told anyone about him stripping in her living room…

Finally, Robin just decided she'd had enough of this ridiculous internal argument. If this wasn't that big of a deal, why did she care if her friends knew? Especially Barney. Who, she had resolved, deserved to be trusted like a real friend. Screw it, she thought. Letting out a long breath, she began, "All right, there was something else…" Barney leaned forward in his chair a little, his elbows resting on the table, some tension evident in his shoulders even though he was trying to hide it. Probably not used to getting 'girl talk' dished onto him.

"I mean, it was really nothing," Robin continued, beginning to gesture with her hands to emphasize the triviality of what she was saying. "Ted and I just had this weird… moment."

"A moment," Barney repeated plainly, his voice betraying nothing.

"Yeah. Just this weird thing where we were looking at each other and, I don't know. For a minute there, it really seemed, to both of us I think, like we were going to… kiss." Robin looked at Barney expectantly, holding her breath without really thinking about it. She hadn't realized and didn't quite understand why she was so anxious over his reaction.

But Barney didn't react. At least he didn't move, not for a while. He just remained stationary, leaning on the table, his eyes fixed with an expectant stare almost as if he hadn't registered any of what she had just said. For a second, Robin thought he might be doing that thing where he totally didn't listen when someone was talking to him, and if that were the case she was going to kill him. But after a few moments of deep silence, Barney licked his dry lips and laughed humorlessly. "Kiss. You almost… wow, that's…" he closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over them as he sat back in his chair, leaning away from her. When he finally opened his eyes to look at her, Robin was surprised by the level of distress she saw there. She guessed it made sense, because this was pretty weird. "So," he said, sounding like he was in a vice as he spoke, "what does that mean?"

Robin had hoped that getting this off her chest would make the weird feeling she had about it go away. But Barney's reaction was just making her more nervous and uptight. Great. "It doesn't mean anything. It honestly wasn't… I mean, it's not like I have feelings for him." She thought she saw Barney flinch, but was probably just imagining it. "We were just both thinking about our futures and the 'what ifs' from our past, and obviously there's always some residual stuff there when you've dated someone for that long. But that's definitely over." Barney didn't even make an attempt to nod in understanding. He was staring, mouth frozen partway open, looking like he was having a hard time both breathing and speaking. Obviously she had underestimated his discomfort with this whole thing.

Sighing, Robin said, "Look, just forget I said anything. I didn't mean to make it awkward. I know how sickening it was to you before to see," she almost said 'me dating Ted', but that seemed out of place. "Ted and I together. What with all the coupley-ness overload, along with Marshall and Lily. But seriously, don't worry. Not going down that road again. Like I told you before, the whole dating friends thing is just a bad idea."

"Right," Barney said, swallowing hard. And no wonder, since his mouth had been ajar for a while and was probably completely dried up.

A painfully awkward silence was threatening to settle in over their lonely corner of IHOP. But fortunately when Robin glanced at the clock, she got a reprieve. "Oh, man. We've been here a lot longer than I thought. I'd better head to work. And I'm sure you'd like to actually get some sleep. Probably tired out after three hours of laser tag, huh old man?" The joking attitude was forced, even for three a.m.

"Yeah, definitely," Barney said, still eerily unemotional and distant. But he seemed to pick up on the fact that this was making things worse for Robin, so he blinked a couple times and forced a smile and casual voice. "The you part, that is. I'm nowhere near my limit. Could play another couple hours, but they're closed. Could go for a night job. A really, really long and thoroughly exhausting night jog." The way he said that, with a tense undercurrent, Robin got a strange feeling that he actually might do that.

"Right, well…" Robin stood up, gathering her things. "I have definitely got to get to the studio in time to change out of this outfit and hairstyle, as bitchin' as it is. So…" she reached into her purse, searching for her wallet.

"Hey, I can pay," Barney said, reaching into his pocket for his own wallet.

"Dude, it's your birthday. _And_ you listened to my irrational pointless rambling for way too long. Think you've already paid enough," Robin insisted. She dropped a 20 on the table, then smiled at Barney sheepishly as she put her wallet away. "Next time, just tell me to shut up. Or maybe throw some cold water in my face." She didn't want him to feel like she didn't appreciate him, though, so she added more genuinely, "But seriously, thank you, Barney."

She kind of expected him to offer a painfully forced smile in return. But instead, the smile on his face seemed very sad but very real. Which, somehow, was more painful. "Hey, it's what I'm here for," he said quietly. Robin's eyes lingered on him for a moment before she gave him a quick wave and spun away from the table, heading out the door with determination.


	9. Chapter 9

There was a spring in his step as Ted strode out of the GNB conference room. Marshall patted him on the shoulder. "Good job in there, buddy," he said encouragingly, and Ted smiled proudly.

"That went better than I could have hoped. I didn't know GNB was so supportive of getting LEED rated," Ted said in disbelief. It was surprising, but somehow even in the soulless corporate world of Goliath National Bank there was actually a measure of good. Sometimes, being an optimist really paid off.

Marshall and Barney exchanged glances before Barney replied through gritted teeth, "Hey, you know GNB. We love the environment." On his more perceptive days, Ted probably would have noticed how stilted his friends' replies were. But he was just too high on life at the moment.

Marshall glanced at his watch. "Oh, crap. Lily's lunch break is almost over. I have to go call her." Ted couldn't help but smile at the fact that after all these years, his friends were still so in love. There was another reason to be an optimist. Marshall turned to head quickly back towards his office.

"Oh, oh!" Barney called after him in faux excitement, "Don't forget to tell her to pick up some tampons for you on your way home, since it's clearly your time of the month!" Marshall shot Barney an exasperated glance before disappearing around the corner, and Barney chuckled to himself, clearly satisfied with his lame little joke.

Ted could only shake his head in amusement, because he knew how much Barney secretly admired Marshall and Lily. But it was their common courtesy not to point out Barney's feelings in front of him, so Ted let it slide. Instead he just idly followed Barney to the elevator that led back to the floor his office was on. "You don't mind if I take my break in your office, do you?" Ted asked.

"No, dude, you know I like having you around," Barney replied, hands in pockets as the elevator took them up.

"It's just that the break room on my floor is all bright white with fluorescent lights. It kind of gives me a headache."

"Yeah, that's what it's supposed to do," Barney said, leading the way out as the doors opened. "They figure it makes people more productive."

Ted shook his head. "It's amazing the lengths this company will go to just to trick its employees. Do they really think people are that dumb?"

For some reason, Barney looked worried and even a little _nervous_ at that comment. Then he forced a laugh and a smile. "No, of course not! That's crazy!" Barney turned and sped up a little as he walked past his secretary's desk into his office. Ted frowned, trying to interpret that moment before shrugging it off. Just Barney being Barney, he guessed.

Inside the office, Ted was able to relax some. He leaned his portfolio of drawings against one of the large chairs and sat down, loosening his tie as he did so. "I don't understand how you do it."

"Do what?" Barney asked, taking a seat behind his desk and glancing at whatever top secret paperwork he happened to have there now. Amazingly, working with Barney made his job seem even more mysterious to Ted than it had before.

"Spend so much time in this environment." Ted shifted, feeling uneasy in the suit he was wearing. "In these clothes."

"Eh," Barney waved a hand dismissively. "You're just having a mild allergic reaction to all the sophisticated, suited-up awesomeness. It's a completely amazing world, but it takes a while to adjust. It might be shocking at first, but pretty soon you'll never want to go back to your naïve little t-shirt and jeans world." Barney snapped his fingers, as if realizing something. "It's like you've taken the red pill." He leaned back in his chair and gave Ted a self-satisfied grin.

Ted couldn't help but wonder if the process Barney was describing was something he'd experienced personally. "So GNB is… Zion?" he asked skeptically.

"Kind of," Barney said. "And with almost as many orgies," he added thoughtfully.

Ted decided he didn't want to know. He wrinkled his nose in distaste and couldn't help but think that it was sad that Barney thought this way, that someone could possibly think this corporate veneer was the real world. Still, Ted was distracted by the metaphor, which was kind of awesome. "So this makes you, what, my Morpheus?" he asked.

Barney's eyes widened in glee as he sat forward. "Yes, Ted. _Yes_. That is a perfect analogy. I am your older, wiser, much more badass mentor who is here to open your eyes to the world. To teach you how to manipulate it. And you're, well… Keanu Reeves." Ted shuddered a little at that comparison, and Barney nodded sympathetically. "I know. Now you see how pathetic you look to everyone else."

Ted could only shake his head at this point. It was one of those times when you just had to concede that Barney had used his crazy metaphors or rules or theories to back you into a corner. Barney seemed to know he had 'won' at this point, because he grinned like an idiot. "Whatever," Ted grumbled in concession.

Of course, all this talk had gotten him off-track. There was a reason he'd wanted to come talk to Barney on his break. Besides the obvious benefit of a nice chair and reasonable lighting. Ted remembered now. "Hey, so," he began, "I just wanted to say, man… I'm really sorry about what happened at your birthday party."

Barney cocked an eyebrow in confusion. "The part where we kicked ass at Star Wars laser tag?" he drawled, clearly baffled.

"No the uh, first party."

"Oh." Barney shrugged slightly and leaned over his desk, pen in hand, to examine his papers. "Don't worry about it, bro. Besides, Robin already apologized. We're good."

Ted sat forward in his chair a little more. He couldn't help but pay close attention any time Barney mentioned Robin. He was always listening for little hints, ticks, clues as to how his friend felt. Of course Ted _knew_ how Barney felt for Robin, but the mystery surrounding the subject was so intriguing. Ted always wanted to know more. "Oh, you two are good, huh?" he tried to sound casual, not too prying.

Barney glanced up from his paperwork. "We two?"

"You and Robin," Ted ventured. "You said you talked to her and you're good now?"

"Not 'we' as in me and Robin. We as in we. All of us."

Ted shifted in his seat, his elbows now on his knees and his hands clasped loosely together as he tried to lean in, as if that would help him hear what Barney was really saying better. Because there had to be more to it than that. Some subtext. Ted knew he wasn't just reading too much into this thing. He pressed forward, gently. "So how are things between you and Robin, then?"

Barney looked up more slowly this time, an edge of wariness in his expression and tone. "The same as with everyone else. Good. Why would it be any different than with the rest of you guys?"

"Well, maybe because you…" _are in love with her and are going insane without her_, Ted wanted to scream while hitting Barney over the head repeatedly, "…set her boyfriend on fire."

Barney threw his hands in the air (and his pen along with them) . "God, how many times do I have to tell you – I _hit_ him with the fire and it was an accident. I thought we were past this."

"We are," Ted reassured him quickly, not wanting to give Barney the wrong idea. He had fully accepted, especially after James's story, that Barney's actions had been understandable. "I was just wondering if Robin felt like…"

"Like…?" Barney looked dumbfounded.

"Like maybe you were, I don't know, jealous of Alistair or something." Ted tried to sound casual, but knew he couldn't. Instead it came out very pointed, like a parent trying to coax his kid into telling the real story of how the window broke.

"Well she doesn't," Barney said, sounding almost disappointed, but mostly dismissive.

Ted bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hold back the urge to let out a shout. Instead, he cooled himself down enough to respond in a measured, even way. "I just don't _get_ you guys sometimes."

"What's there to get?" Barney grabbed another pen off his desk and went back to work.

_That_, Ted thought. The casual way Barney could just deflect any questions about Robin, even though the whole situation with Alistair was clearly driving him crazy. Even though she was clearly driving him crazy. Ted decided that if Barney couldn't be his own voice of logic, Ted would have to be. "Look, I know how you feel about her. I'm pretty sure we all do." Barney looked up, a little surprised. "Well, except Robin." Barney relaxed again. "So, I don't know… the way you act around her confuses the hell out of me."

"I act like a friend. We're friends. What's so confusing about that?"

"Because I know what it's like to try to pretend to just be her friend when you feel something more." Barney put down his pen and studied Ted closely as he continued, "I went through that for a year. And it drove me crazy trying to hide it."

"Yeah, well you did a pretty crappy job, dude," Barney said with a snort. "Trust me, she knew exactly how you felt the whole time. You were drooling all over her. And as I recall it kind of freaked her out."

"But at least she _knew_," Ted objected, sitting up straighter now. "And that was the only way she was ever going to consider if she felt the same way about me. You can call it pathetic or whiny, but it worked. Because no one really wants to bury all their feelings that deep. Not even you."

Barney studied him quietly, the wheels in his head turning. "Is this why you've been kind of pissed at me lately? Because I'm not acting like _you_?" he had that skeptical edge to his voice, not sarcastic yet, just flippant.

Ted sighed. "I'm not pissed at you." Barney gave him a pointed look. "Okay, yes, I've been frustrated with you." That was a good middle ground to settle on. He didn't want to get too riled up, but the more they talked about this, the more Ted's frustration was stirred. "When you started to let on how you felt about Robin, I was happy for you. And I just assumed you would tell her. If you were serious about it, you should have made a move by now. But instead you're just being passive-aggressive. And I swear, every time I see you with some bimbo-"

"Wait," Barney interrupted, holding up a hand. "Exactly how many bimbos have you seen me with lately."

"C'mon, the handcuff chick at the party," Ted pointed out.

"Well that was different. I didn't plan that," Barney protested.

"I just don't get how you can say you're in love with Robin and still be acting like your usual self. Acting sleazy and lewd isn't the best way to a girl's heart. I know you think it's 'awesome', but you have to be more than that. You have to actually _talk_ to a girl. Be a real friend and not just some class clown."

It looked like Barney was grinding his teeth a little as he formulated a reply. When he did speak, he sat forward, one elbow leaning on the desk and a finger pointed at Ted. "First of all, I never said I was in love with her." It was more a correction than a denial, and Ted let it slide. "But secondly, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just being myself."

_Which is exactly the problem_, Ted stopped himself short of saying. Instead he more tactfully replied, "And we all get that. We like you, you're our friend. We're all entertained by your jokes and antics sometimes, but don't you ever want to be a little more real with us?" Ted was feeling earnest now, knowing that that was exactly what Barney wanted. He knew there was more to Barney than all the façade crap, and he really was trying to be better friends, better bros with Barney. He was just having a hell of a time figuring out how to be real and open with someone who made a lewd joke out of everything. And if he was, then of course Robin would be, too.

Unfortunately just then there was a knock on the door, and Barney seemed to relax a little, thankful for the interruption. "Come in," he said.

His secretary entered, but only stood in the doorway. Barney got up and walked over towards her. Some kind of protocol, maybe. Ted imagined Barney having given her a short list of reasons she was allowed to disturb him by actually coming in to his office. Most of which probably had to do with sex. "This was delivered for you."

Barney took the large envelope she was holding. "Thanks, Maggie," he said even as he turned around. They didn't even make eye-contact as she quickly exited. Ted couldn't help but feel that was a little rude, but hey, what did he know about the corporate world? He watched as Barney pulled out a stack of papers and let out a groan. "Oooh, _dammit_!" Barney grumbled.

"What is it?" Ted asked, then thought better of it. Knowing Barney's job (or rather, not knowing Barney's job) it was probably something nefarious and possibly illegal. "On second thought, don't tell me. I don't really want to be kidnapped by any ex-KGB members."

"No, it's nothing like that. We haven't had a problem with that in like three months," Barney said, letting out a long sigh as he continued flipping through the papers. "It's just sexual harassment charges again."

"What?" Ted asked, alarmed. He stood up, looking concerned. That seemed pretty serious to him, but Barney just looked really annoyed.

"This is so unfair!" Barney exclaimed, sounding very much the victim. "Like I could have known Billson's secretary understood Japanese… do you think Marshall could help me with this one?"

Ted shifted uncertainly. The fact that Barney hadn't denied that whatever was in that file actually happened made him suspicious. He tried to keep his cool, to not jump to any conclusions. He reminded himself that he was trying to figure out a way to be a better friend to Barney. Even if Barney was being immature and frustrating as hell lately. "What did you do?" Ted asked evenly, trying not to sound judgmental.

"I just talked to her!" Barney insisted. "Here, look for yourself." He waved Ted over to stand beside him and handed him the file.

Ted's eyes scanned until he found the key list of complaints. His brow furrowed, and something in his stomach twisted. "This says you stood behind her and whispered into her ear at the coffee machine on an almost daily basis."

"Exactly, thank you."

Ted's face slacked and his stomach churned more as he read on. Because the truth was, he could definitely picture Barney saying that stuff. It was probably stuff he'd said to a hundred different women. And frankly, it was exactly the sort of thing that Ted was so mad at him about. But he tried not to jump to conclusions. There was always the chance the woman was exaggerating. Innocent until proven guilty… well, 'not guilty this time' until proven guilty might be more accurate. He looked up at his friend, "Did you really say this stuff?"

Barney took a look at the file over Ted's shoulder. "No!" he said, pointing to one of the lines. "I said _like a dog_ not _like a donkey_. Seriously, that's just crude."

It wasn't entirely clear if he was joking or not. "Barney," Ted replied, a warning edge to his tone.

"Okay, yes!" Barney admitted, like the kid finally admitting he'd broken the window with his baseball. He let out a sigh. "That looks like a pretty accurate translation of some of the things I said to her." He glanced at the page again. "Which is impressive. She must be pretty fluent." A smirk crossed his lips as he read a particular phrase. "Not to mention pretty dirty. There's only one reason a girl bothers to learn the word for-"

"Barney!" Ted erupted, yanking the file away. "Why the hell do you think Marshall would want to help you get out of this? Why would _anyone_ want to?"

Barney looked confused and slightly hurt. "Uh, because they don't want to see their bro falsely accused and publicly shamed." His voice had that 'duh' quality to it often did when he was trying to explain something that would never make sense to a normal person.

"But it's not a false accusation, is it?" Ted asked in a low, serious voice, hoping and praying for some kind of realization or reaction on Barney's part.

Instead, Barney just smirked. "It is if they can't prove it."

"God damn it, Barney!" Ted shouted, surprised at his own vehemence. He had tried. He had tried so hard to be understanding, to not let his personal beliefs on how Barney should handle the Robin thing push him towards anger. But this was on an entirely different level. Barney seemed startled by the outburst. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Ted, what the hell is wrong with _you?_ Calm down, bro," Barney tried to sound casual, but seemed slightly worried under it all.

"I don't want to calm down, Barney. I shouldn't be calm," Ted insisted, his voice ramping up. "You know what? This," he shoved the file into Barney's chest, "describes exactly the kind of creep Robin's friends would never want her to date."

Barney lost a little bit of the color in his face. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

Ted should have been biting his tongue harder. Should have been holding back more. But he was already holding back a lot. This was his friend, and he wasn't trying to hurt him. Wasn't trying to say things just to make them sting. But the truth was becoming more and more clear to him, and why should he hold that back? Someone had to be honest for once. When it came to times like this, that responsibility often seemed to fall on Ted. "Barney," he said calmly but firmly, "I know we're like brothers. And I want to see you happy, but this is crazy. This case, and this Robin thing… I know how you feel about her, but it isn't just about feelings. You can't just feel in love, you have to act lovingly. And Robin's my friend, too. I'm not just going to throw her to the wolves."

Barney's eyes narrowed. "She's not your little sister, Ted," he scoffed.

"You'd feel the same way if you were in my position," Ted reasoned evenly. "Think about it. Seriously think about this, Barney- how would you feel if Robin was dating some guy who treated women like pieces of meat. A guy who was being brought up on sexual harassment charges for the tenth time."

Not seeming to have a response to that, Barney instead said, "Who she's dating is irrelevant. I don't really want to see her with anyone else."

Ted could understand that, could even sympathize with Barney. But that still didn't change the facts. And it couldn't erase that nagging annoyance he'd had with Barney these past few weeks, since she'd been dating Alistair. "If you aren't going to make a move, honestly, you should be happy for her if she's happy. You can't hide your feelings and still be angry when she dates someone else," Ted said. "Alistair is a nice guy. Robin hasn't been with a nice guy in…" he thought about it, realizing it really _had_ been a long time. "At least over a year," he decided.

There was a heavy pause while the meaning of that sunk in. Barney cleared his throat, shifting his weight from foot to foot as if trying to hold something in. Ted wasn't quite sure if it was anger or pain, or a mix of both. Finally, Barney said, "So I don't count as a nice guy."

That association hadn't occurred to Ted. But thinking about it, he realized it had been a little over a year since… that whole mess. He wanted to say that he hadn't meant Barney, but something stopped him. Because he couldn't in honesty say that Barney was off on this one. Ted raised his arms and let them fall in a gesture of confusion and concession. "I don't know sometimes, Barney," he finally said. "Not when it comes to women. I know this is in the past, but there's a really good reason I was so mad about what you did to Robin. It was really shitty. And no one wants to see that happen again."

Barney looked spooked as he asked tentatively, "So what, you're going to stop talking to me again?"

He was trying to sound tough and sarcastic, but it came out much more meekly than that. Ted immediately corrected him. "No, no, no. No way," he insisted staunchly, looking Barney in the eye as he did. He didn't want there to be any confusion on that. Ted wasn't about to forget the months Barney had lain immobile and miserable in the hospital, or the fact that it had almost been much, much worse. "I meant it when I said we were brothers. But that doesn't mean you get a free pass either. You don't get to do that to Robin again. If you are serious about her, you can't treat her like one of your bimbos. You shouldn't treat _anyone_ like one of your bimbos."

Barney's confidence seemed to slowly be coming back, reassured that Ted wasn't threatening to de-bro him again. Which was good, except that there was some offense creeping back into his tone. "Do you still think I duped Robin into sleeping with me?"

Ted gave him a kind of _well, if the shoe fits_ expression. "We all know what that was," Ted reasoned vaguely. He didn't really want to get into this, preferring not to think about it again. It made him incredibly uncomfortable to think that one of his friends had taken advantage of another that way. "Honestly, we all know you and we know Robin."

"Oh, I get it," Barney said, a slight sneer tinting his voice, "The only reason Robin would ever sleep with me is if I took advantage of her and tricked her somehow. Thanks a lot." Barney let out a huff and paced back behind his desk, tossing the file down in frustration.

Stifling a groan of exasperation and thinking Barney was being a little dramatic about this, Ted walked over and stood on the opposite side of the desk. The least Barney could do was be honest about the past. Maybe owning up to his past mistakes was the only way for him to see how different things would have to be this time. "Well, come on Barney," Ted said, "She told me herself that she was feeling really vulnerable that night because of Simon. And you did what you always do around vulnerable women, which is go in for the kill."

Barney looked up from the papers he was riffling through on his desk. "She said that?" he asked.

Ted shifted, trying to think back to discern the difference between what had actually been said and what had technically just been implied. "Well, not exactly. She didn't say much but we all figured out what happened pretty easily. And if that happened before and you're still acting the same way now, of course there's the worry that it would happen again."

Barney bit his lip and settled his hand onto his hips. He was starting to look less hurt and more angry. "That's a hell of an assumption to make," he ground out. "Hey, how about that part where you remember that _I'm_ her friend, too. And that maybe it didn't happen the way you think it did." Barney stopped short of saying more.

"Can you blame me?" Ted asked, his voice getting louder to match Barney's. He could feel the resilient anger boiling up again. No matter how hard he tried to just be cool and level-headed with Barney, Barney kept giving him reasons not to be. "The one time I tried to ask you about it, you just made it into a sex joke!"

"I thought that's what you were asking!" Barney insisted.

"Well, fine," Ted said, starting to feel like there might be steam rolling out either of their ears any second now. "Why don't you prove me wrong. Convince me that it was anything other than just another one of your selfish conquests. What else am I supposed to think?!"

Barney didn't meet his eyes, pacing back and forth and turning his back for a moment, seeming like he was trying really hard to decide what to say. For a minute, Ted thought there might actually be some kind of important revelation coming… but then, of course there wasn't. It just confirmed his suspicions, all their suspicions. "I can't…" Barney finally said through gritted teeth.

"I thought so," Ted said, shaking his head.

"No, it wasn't what you think, I just… aaaarrgh!" Barney slammed a fist into his desk. "If Robin didn't want to discuss it with any of you by now, she definitely wouldn't want me to." He crumpled some papers with his fists, and Ted was surprised at the amount of intensity there. It was a little frightening. Then Barney let out a humorless laugh, starting to get hysterical, "What's ironic is that when I _did _try to take advantage of her vulnerability and seduce her, the plan totally fell apart!"

Ted felt himself go very still. His voice, his manner, everything about him was suddenly dead-serious. "_What_?" he asked, feeling like a white-hot coil inside him was heating up, ready to spring and lash out violently.

And Barney realized, for once in his life, that he'd said something he shouldn't have. "I mean… it wasn't…"

"When was this?" Ted asked, his voice severe and demanding as he leaned into the desk.

Barney backed up a step, looking nervous. But he must have known Ted wasn't about to let up at this point. And Barney was too wild, too emotional now to think of the incredible deflection he would have needed to get out of this one. He swallowed. "At your wedding. Your almost-wedding, that is," Barney started skittishly. Ted started circling around to the side of the desk, subtly closing the distance between them to get Barney to keep talking. "I just figured she'd be, you know…"

"Vulnerable? Easy to manipulate?" Ted ground out fiercely. Another step forward.

"Look…" Barney held a hand up, trying to back up further but finding the wall there. He let out a little fearful sound as he hit it. "You know how non-married chicks are at weddings. And I thought there was going to be alcohol, which obviously there wasn't. But I just figured..."

"What? That you'd screw her? And then what? Gloat about it? Not call her? Jesus, Barney!" Ted grabbed a hold of Barney's shoulders, jolting his upper body against the wall again. He couldn't hold back any longer. "This was _after_ you claimed to be in love with her! _That's_ how you treat the woman you're in love with? That's how you treat _Robin_ when you're in love with her?!"

"Ted, that was," Barney stammered, trying to grab Ted's hands and pry them off his jacket.

But Ted wasn't about to stand here and listen to any more of Barney's bullshit. He had tried to be understanding, careful, restrained. Everything he could think of. It clearly wasn't working. But more than that, Ted was mad as hell, plain and simple. "How can you not see what I'm saying? How on earth are any of us supposed to trust you with Robin when you treat her and every other woman like garbage?" Ted growled angrily, finally exploding. "Who in their right mind wants to see one of their best friends with such a worthless _bastard_!"

Ted could instantly feel Barney's muscles tense up in a heavy wince. What was more, though, he could see the look on Barney's face, like someone had just thrown ice-water on him. He was stunned and tense and something in his eyes betrayed a deep-seated fearfulness. It caught Ted off guard because it was almost child-like. Almost… oh shit. He remembered the story James had told them, Barney's insecurity, his father or lack-there-of issues. He remembered _Barney_, his friend, and felt awful. Could he have had a poorer choice of words?

"Oh shit," Ted said out loud, letting go of Barney and immediately stepping back. He felt deeply ashamed of his choice of words. "I didn't mean it like that," he said, remembering the whole reason they'd had that second birthday party for Barney in the first place. Remembering that he came here to apologize for throwing him out of his first one. "Seriously, I'm sorry," Ted said sincerely, holding up his hands in apology.

Barney remained shell-shocked for a moment, then stepped slowly away from the wall. All the self-assurance had bled out of his face along with his color. When he spoke, he sounded strangely different. Weirdly distant. "Right, I know you didn't mean…" Barney started, then looked down, as if collecting himself. He swallowed and looked back up. "But I know what you're trying to say, Ted. I get it. You can say it." There was a beat, a pregnant pause, and they both seemed to fear the inevitable. Finally, Barney said, "You don't think I'm good enough for Robin."

Ted instinctively wanted to say something reassuring. To cheer Barney up and make him feel better, even if what he had to say wasn't quite true. He probably would have done that a few years ago. Even a few months ago. But Ted realized, with much pain, that real, deep friendship wasn't about always telling someone what they wanted to hear. Sometimes tough love was needed. True, he'd been a little _too_ tough in his delivery, had let things get out of hand. But would it really help Barney to lie to him? Maybe the thing he really needed from his friend was a wake-up call. Marshall had needed one before he'd been able to get over Lily breaking his heart. And Ted had had to be the one to deliver that tough love, too. But it had worked, hadn't it? Ted took a breath, then finally said, "I'm sorry, but… you're not."

Barney sank into his desk chair. Ted was quick to add, "But not because of your past. You as you are now, which can change. You should just step back and take a good look at yourself and seriously consider if you think anything needs to change." Barney looked down at the sexual harassment file on his desk, contemplatively.

"You're saying she deserves someone better, like," Barney drew in a breath and looked up, "you?"

Ted looked down at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

Barney spoke quietly. "She told me about the marriage pact you guys made." Oh, Ted thought. Well he wasn't sure why that would seem so weird. It had been really light-hearted. Then Barney added, "And she said you kind of almost… kissed."

_Oh_. This picture was starting to look clearer to Ted. At least some of Barney's skittishness during this conversation seemed motivated. If he thought Ted had ulterior motives. "It wasn't like that," Ted insisted, thinking of a way to explain. Because it had been weird, granted.

But Barney simply cut to the chase. "Are you still in love with her?" he asked, and from the raw expression on his face, Ted could tell it was a question that had been nagging at Barney.

"No," Ted said, evenly but not too firmly lest Barney thing he was trying to convince himself. "Trust me, I knew when I was in love with Robin. I'm not anymore." Barney was quiet, contemplative. It was a little weird. Ted continued, "There was just this weird moment, like an old habit. But it didn't mean anything, I swear. And the whole marriage pact… that was more just agreeing on the fact that both of us are at a point where we're actually ready to settle down with someone. I know it's hard to imagine, but Robin isn't as anti-marriage as she used to be."

"No, I get that," Barney said, looking down at his desk and running his fingers along the edge. Ted wasn't sure what to make of that, so he let it slide. "It's just that she's starting to look for a real relationship. Which, like you said, kind of makes my chances even worse." He grinned a sad sort of shadow version of his normal smirk, "I mean, she was quicker to settle on marrying you out of desperation than to take me seriously for one date." Even that ghost of a smile couldn't stay on Barney's face for long.

Ted was feeling guilty for having contributed to this. But looking at the sexual harassment suit on the desk, remembering that Barney admitted to having tried to seduce Robin at his wedding, Ted couldn't make himself feel he should take it back. The way he'd said it, sure, but the content was true. It hurt, but it was true. "Barney, I'm sorry. And I'm not saying you'd never have a chance with her, but just the way you are now-"

"Yeah Ted, I get it," Barney let out a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I know what you're trying to do. I see your point. I'm not mad at you, but seriously, shut up." Ted did as he was told. He guessed that was fair. This had turned into a really emotional conversation for both of them, and he was just now noticing that Barney looked as exhausted as Ted felt. After rubbing his eyes, Barney glanced up at Ted. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure your break's more than over, dude."

"Right," Ted said with a nod. He slowly walked over and picked up his portfolio of drawings. When he reached the door, he looked back over his shoulder at Barney, who was holding a pen and hunched over his papers, leaning his forehead against one hand. "I'm really sorry, Barney," Ted said, not sure whether he was apologizing for his outburst or for the hard facts of the situation with Robin. Neither was pretty. Barney just waved him away without looking up. As Ted slowly let himself out the door, he couldn't help but think this brotherly love thing was a lot more difficult than he'd imagined.


	10. Chapter 10

NOTE: I'm really sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. I've been working on it this whole time, but I also had college graduation and some other stuff going on. Hope it's worth the wait. I warn you, though, this is headed straight into major angst land.

* * *

"What the hell do the little triangles mean?" Robin asked, pointing to the score-card on-screen.

"Dude, it's because I got a strike," Barney said matter-of-factly. This was the kind of play-argument they'd had a thousand times before. They were hanging out as casually as they ever had. And yet, there was a strange tension in Barney's whole body. He was practiced at trying to be his normal self at this point. But after his argument with Ted, there was something more to it than just pulling the wool over Robin's eyes. It was almost like feeling self-conscious, which of course was ridiculous since that was impossible to feel without a shame gland. He hoped that extra tightness he'd had in his chest all afternoon was something simpler, less threatening. Like tuberculosis.

"Why doesn't it just show your points?" she asked, still clearly confused.

He furrowed his brow and stared at her incredulously. "Do they seriously not have bowling in Canada?" Barney couldn't help it. It was like Robin came with an inexhaustible number of easy jokes by virtue of her country of birth. Besides, he secretly found her little Canadian ticks endearing.

She rolled her eyes. "Of course we have bowling. I just never really went. Isn't it kind of a white trash thing?"

He was about to counter that his mom used to be in a bowling league, but closed his mouth. Actually, that might just prove her point. Besides, even though he was trying not to take what Ted had said to him the day before too personally, there was still a part of Barney that was suddenly uncomfortable with any and all of his weaknesses and self-conscious of his past. Which was totally ridiculous, because he was awesome. And they were just two normal friends hanging out without ulterior motive. What was so difficult about that? Clearly Ted underestimated him.

Still, it was best not to bring up uncomfortable topics anyway. Instead, he deflected by poking fun at her. "It's okay, Robin. It may be too cold to leave your igloo most of the year up there, but thanks to Nintendo all the little Canadian children can experience the wonder of bowling anyway. They won't have to go through what you did." Barney bit his lip in concentration as he lined up the controller for his next throw.

Just then, the door opened and a lilting voice broke in with a cheerful, "Evening, Robin." Barney's face twitched a little at the sound of Alistair's voice, and he remained looking straight ahead at the screen as he threw his whole arm into his next turn. Unfortunately, it was a little too hard and the ball went spinning wildly off into the gutter.

"Hey," Robin said, giving Alistair a hug as he walked over towards them. "Please tell me you can help me out here." She gestured to the screen, causing her character to accidentally throw the ball sideways. "Dammit! See what I mean?"

Barney and Alistair laughed at the same time. Which killed Barney's amusement and brought a grimace of disgust to his face instead. Robin seemed to notice and gave him a questioning look, which prompted him to speak up to distract her. "Yeah, Scherbatsky could really use a hand, and eyes, and coordination. Preferably in some combination that works together..."

Alistair smiled politely and said, "Sorry, I'm no good at video games. Never really played." He was so self-effacing and genuine. God, Barney wanted to wipe that look off his face.

"Too busy playing real sports," Robin said, shooting Barney a look that was only supposed to be a joking challenge. Like the kind she'd have given to Ted in the same situation, just ribbing her friends for being a little indoors-oriented. And Barney was no different, no special case. Just another one of her friends. Definitely not someone who would feel self-conscience at such a comment coming from her.

"Whatever," Barney muttered, "You're not getting out of this crushing defeat that easily, Robin." His heart wasn't even really in the bravado, which was clearly a bad sign. What was wrong with him? It was like Ted's talk the previous day had completely deflated his well-developed confidence. And that confidence was the only thing keeping him from unravelling.

Robin's tone shifted a little as she glanced at Alistair. "Actually, we kind of wanted to watch a movie..."She started.

Barney looked between her and Alistair, noticing for the first time that he was holding a box of chocolates and a bottle of wine. "Oh," Barney said,

"You can finish your game first," Alistair quickly jumped in.

Barney shot him a suspicious glance, not exactly sure where this guy got off being so nice. The look on Robin's face as she eyed Alistair made it clear she was thinking the same thing. Okay, maybe not in those words. But it was obvious she recognized Alistair's unusually indulgent manner with Barney, and from the slight huff she let out, thought it was unwarranted. She shot Barney a look that clearly said _'dude, get out so I can get laid_'.

Loud and clear. He'd heard her loud and clear. "I just remembered," Barney said with extremely obvious affectation, "an important international business meeting that I have to get to." He scrambled to grab his jacket and throw it on as he practically dashed for the door.

He didn't look back. Not when he flew out the door, or ran down the stairwell, or broke out into the night air, or hailed and stepped into a cab. Barney didn't look back behind him even one time. Because he knew what was chasing after him, begging him to come back - nothing. No one.

"You in a hurry to get somewhere?" the cabbie asked, noting Barney's breathlessness.

"Atlantic City," Barney replied in a way that sounded firm and confident, but with an undercurrent of resignation.

The cabbie scoffed. "You nuts? That's 100 miles away, pal. I'm not even licensed to drive my cab in New Jersey."

Barney rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration as he reached into his pocket with his other hand and pulled out his wallet. Fumbling almost angrily, he pulled out five hundred-dollar bills and practically tossed him in the driver's lap. "There."

The driver's eyebrows shot up, and he stuffed the bills into his pocket. "You got it," he said, shifting the car out of park and pulling out into the street. Barney just closed his eyes and sank down into the seat, not looking back at the apartment. Not able to look back at the empty sidewalk.

*****

Two days later, Lily was awakened with a start when their phone blared to life at four in the morning. Her eyes shot open, and beside her Marshall practically fell out of bed as he woke up with a yell. "Holy crap!" he exclaimed, holding a hand over his chest to keep his heart from beating out of it, evidently.

Lily groaned and tried to bury her face in her pillow. "Who in their right mind is calling at four a.m.?" Especially when she had to wake up at 6 for school, and now would probably never be able to get back to sleep before having to get up again. Fantastic.

It took Marshall a moment of fumbling in the dark to find the phone on its cradle. "Hello?" he said, sounding as edgy and annoyed as Lily felt.

She closed her eyes and muttered. "If that's Ted drunk dialing again, tell him I hate him."

She could feel the bed shift as Marshall sat up straighter. Into the phone, he said, "Wait, slow down Barney." Lily's eyes snapped open suddenly, just as Marshall turned on the lamp by the bed. She mouthed 'Barney?' to Marshall as she sat up. It had been two days since anyone had seen Barney. He had apparently left Robin and Ted's apartment kind of suddenly and not said where he was going. They'd gotten some cryptic and drunken-sounding text messages from him, but Marshall and Ted said he hadn't even shown up for work yesterday. Suddenly, Lily was very awake. She tried to lean in towards Marshall to hear what Barney was saying, but she couldn't hear. Marshall held up his hand, asking her to wait as he tried to listen to Barney.

"Okay... um, do I want to ask exactly why you need us to wire this money to you in New Jersey?" Marshall asked, and Lily made a face. How the hell had Barney wound up there of all places? She tugged anxiously at Marshall's sleeve and indicated the speaker phone button on the phone. After a moment, he obliged, hitting it and setting the handset on the bed between them.

"-ong story. I sort of... lost some of mine." Barney's voice on the other end sounded small.

"Wait," Lily joined in. "First of all, I'm glad you're in one piece. Secondly... are you in Atlantic City?" Marshall seemed to catch her drift and gave her a worried look of realization.

"Hey Lily," Barney said. He let out a sigh before saying softly, "yeah. I'm in Atlantic City."

Marshall did his best to remain calm, though Lily was pretty sure he was panicking as much as she was. Barney had promised to stop gambling months ago, and as far as they knew, had been doing a good job of it. He'd just been accepting 'challenges' instead, which were often of a ridiculous nature but at least didn't involve money. "Look, dude," Marshall said, "We'll do our best to help you out. We can loan you whatever you still owe."

Barney laughed humorlessly. "Seriously doubt it, dude. Unless you've got a lot of money you've been hiding from the rest of us."

"Barney," Lily ventured hesitantly, making nervous eye-contact with Marshall. "How much did you lose?"

There was a long pause on the other end, which was only making things worse on Lily. Finally, Barney replied self-consciously, "Um... eighty. Thousand... eighty thousand." Marshall covered his mouth with one hand, presumably to keep himself from letting out a string of expletives. Lily was having the opposite problem, her eyes going wide and her voice suddenly leaving her. Barney must have sensed the shock on their end, because he added, "But don't worry about it. I've got it covered. I mean, my checking account's drained but I can move some over from savings and I'll be able to pay the rest off. Then I can cash in some stock... it's... really, don't worry about that."

Lily saw Marshall bite his lip to keep from screaming. She knew him well enough to know he was going crazy inside hearing Barney had lost more money in one night than he made in a year. But she also knew he was too good a friend to say that, even though it was completely warranted. She would have said it herself if she'd been able to speak, but her mind was still reeling.

"Anyway..." Barney began, sounding distinctly uncomfortable, "That's, ah, not what I needed money for. I mean, it's kind of because of that. I need to write a check for two thousand dollars and I'm all out right now."

Marshall cleared his throat. "Barney, no offense, but if we wire you this money, how can we be sure you're not going to just go blow it at the craps table?"

"That definitely won't be happening. Trust me, I'm nowhere near any kind of gambling establishment."

For the first time, Lily noticed that Barney sounded really tired, and she wondered if, wherever he was, he'd gotten any sleep since he left. Because she was kind of starting to suspect that he hasn't. Finally finding her voice, she prompted him gently, "Barney, where _are_ you?"

The line was silent for a lot longer than last time. Then, meekly, Barney responded, "The county jail." He let out a ragged sigh. "I got in this fight and they charged me with assault... I don't know. I wasn't exactly sober at the time, and the doctor here just finished cleaning the cuts and everything, so I could finally call. Maybe I should have waited until morning, I just really wanted to borrow some money for bail." He was starting to ramble, maybe partly because neither Marshall or Lily knew what to say. But Barney mistook their silence, sounding deeply embarrassed when he added, "Not that you guys have to... Oh God." He let out a truly miserable-sounding groan, "Now I feel like an even bigger dick. You know what, I'm sorry, don't worry about-"

"Barney, no," Lily cut in decisively, her tone leaving no room for questioning. "Of course we'll get the money to you."

"Yeah, man," Marshall added, "We're sorry, I think we were just really shocked is all."

"Right," Barney said quietly. "Sorry about that."

"Good God, man, stop apologizing!" Lily burst out, some of her pent up shock coming out all of a sudden. "We're not about to let you stay in some jail cell in New Jersey. Even though jail cell in New Jersey is kind of redundant." She tried a little humor, because that's just how they are. Barney even chuckled a little, though she could tell his heart wasn't in it.

"We're coming to get you," Marshall jumped in, and Lily nodded to him encouragingly.

"What? No. You guys don't even have a way to get here," Barney pointed out.

"We'll rent a car," Lily added, knowing she and Marshall were completely on the same page. They didn't even need to say anything for both of them to step out of bed and start throwing on jeans and shirts, looking around for their shoes.

Barney sighed heavily into his end of the phone line. "I'll pay you guys back for all of this..."

"Okay, seriously, shut _up_ Barney," Lily replied. "I thought we went over this. This is what friends are for. It's not like you wouldn't do the same for us."

"Lil, I kind of doubt I'm ever going to have to bail you out of jail for getting in a fight at a casino," Barney stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Marshall quipped, affecting lightness even though Lily could see the intense worry behind his eyes. They had both finished jamming their shoes on and grabbed their wallet and purse from the nightstand. "Hang tight, buddy," Marshall said, "We're on our way. Get there as soon as we can."

"Thanks, guys," Barney replied with the weight of full sincerity.

"We love you, Barney," Lily added on a whim. For some reason, it just seemed like the thing to say. Like something he needed to hear. She couldn't see him, but knew that tone of voice Barney got when he was starting to feel incredibly self-loathing. They had just dealt with this with his birthday party. She couldn't help but wonder what in the world had happened to change the apparent high he'd been on. She had a couple guesses, but didn't want to think about any of them too long.

Barney wasn't responding, and Lily exchanged looks with Marshall. "Hey, bro, you still there?"

There was the sound of Barney clearing his throat, then he started, "Yeah, I... I need to hang up, though."

Lily wished desperately that they could just keep talking to him until they got there. Though at the same time, what on earth would they say? "See you soon Barney."

"Bye," Barney replied, then clicked the phone down gently.

Marshall gave her a forlorn, troubled look. "Baby..." he began, shaking his head. He didn't seem to know what to say after a phone-call like that. But Lily knew exactly what he was feeling, felt the same things, but couldn't express them any better. Her heart ached so badly for Barney, but she was running out of ways to try to support him. And Marshall, Marshall was such a great friend, but if Barney didn't even tell him that he was skipping out on work, what could he do to stop him?

"I know, Baby," she replied with a nod. "Let's just go, okay? I don't want him sitting there any longer than he has to." Marshall gave her a curt nod, looking lost as he turned and led the way to the front door.

*****

The cell was cold and hard, and Barney had his eyes shut tightly so he wouldn't have to look at his surroundings. Or any of the other miserable men sitting on the benches along the walls, waiting to be turned loose or booked into a private cell. Barney felt sick, probably because he hadn't eaten much in the last day and had drank a large amount of alcohol. He was utterly exhausted, but Lord knew he wasn't going to lay down for a nap here. He was doing his best not to touch anything.

"Stinson," a voice called sharply, and Barney quickly snapped to life, opening his eyes and standing up. The guard looked at his clipboard, then at Barney, his face set in a scowl. "You're free to go."

Barney let out the biggest sigh of his life, his body relaxing as the gate was rolled back and he stepped outside. "Oh thank God," he said, rubbing his face wearily. He winced when his bruised knuckles brushed his black eye and swollen lip. He'd almost forgotten about those in his attempts to force himself into an out-of-body state. Guess it had worked.

The woman at lockup slid an envelope of Barney's possessions to him and handed him the sign-out sheet. He barely glanced in to look at his wallet and watch. At this point, he didn't really care if someone had decided to steal his stuff. He would even have gladly abandoned his suit just to get the hell out of here. It was that bad.

As soon as the electric door locks slid open and Barney stepped into the lobby, he was nearly bowled over by a dual hug from Marshall and Lily. It was unexpected to say the least, and he didn't quite know what to make of it. Besides realizing the pain of his bruised ribs being squeezed. "Ow, ow!" he hissed through his teeth. "Guys, haven't I been pummeled enough for one day? ...two days," he corrected himself.

They both stepped back and looked at Barney's state, and he suddenly wished he hadn't mentioned it. Stupid. He was beyond mortified already, couldn't believe they'd rented a car to drive all the way down here, and now had drawn attention to the fact that he looked like he'd been run over by a bus. Again. "Barney!" Lily gasped, and he thought this was probably the voice she used when one of her kindergarteners scraped a knee. "Are you okay? Do you need some ice or something...?"

Shrugging it off, he just said confidently, "Hey, you should see the other guy." But he didn't have enough energy to keep up his typical cockiness even for a second. His face fell and he muttered miserably, "Okay, that's not true. He hardly had a scratch on him."

"Well I hope they arrested his ass, too," Marshall said.

Barney gave him a withering look. "No, they didn't. He's... kind of a security guard for the casino." He didn't even want to look to see the expressions on either of their faces, so he became very interested in the pattern on the floor. Besides, their silence said enough. That heavy, disappointed silence. Normally there were more exclamations and condemnations of how outlandish or inappropriate he was. Those were the sorts of reactions he normally lived for, but Barney felt no pride this time. besides which, Marshall and Lily were silent, not seeming to find anything remotely funny about it, either.

Finally, Marshall cleared his throat, probably after a telepathic conversation with Lily during the silence, and said, "Okay, let's just get going, man."

Barney barely looked up, nodding quietly as he followed them out onto the sidewalk. He caught a glimpse of Lily staring at him with a troubled expression, and that was more than enough to make him look back down. When they arrived at the rental car, Marshall opened the back door for him, and Barney slid in without a word. Marshall and Lily both entered the car in utter silence, strapping on their seat-belts and exchanging glances, but never looking up in the rear-view mirror to meet Barney's eyes.

Now he was watching them, waiting for a reaction, something. He felt oddly like a kid who'd been picked up from the principal's office by his disappointed mother and father. At least, he was guessing this is what that felt like. When his mom had to pick him up for getting in fights (which were always more like just getting pummeled without provocation than a real exchange of blows), she would just get pissed at him. Barney didn't blame her. Raising two boys on her own was nearly impossible, especially for someone with little to no natural nurturing ability. But he was starting to think this silent treatment was even worse than the yelling. He couldn't take it, and realized that he had been chewing his nails nervously. God, his manicurist would have a fit.

So instead Barney put his hands down and blurted out, like a scared kid, "Are you mad at me?"

Marshall's eyes flashed to the mirror briefly, then back to the road. "No, why would we be mad?"

Barney gestured to his bruised face, then out the window. "This... and in New Jersey... just the whole thing. Because you're not saying anything."

"We're just tired, Barney," Lily ventured, though there was something else clearly hanging in the air.

"I'm sorry, guys," Barney said, sounding exhausted and desperate. "I just thought I could do with some binge bimbo-ing and drinking." He tried to smile, but it was clearly false and fell away almost instantly. "Guess I got carried away." As usual, he added silently. Was it really this bad all the time? Had he just not noticed before?

Lily turned around in her seat so she could look at him. "Barney, you don't have to apologize to us. I think we're just disappointed because things seemed to be going better for you lately." Her voice became a little lighter. "I mean, I know how much Robin likes bruises, but this isn't exactly the way to win her heart."

Barney's eyes widened in panic and darted to Marshall. "Oh," Marshall said, glancing at him in the mirror reassuringly, "I already know."

Barney's jaw was slack as he looked at Lily in horror, feeling a stab of betrayal. "Lil! You told him?"

"No!" Lily insisted, "I promise I didn't."

"It's true," Marshall said with a nod of his head, getting into his casual 'trying to prove a point' mode. Unfortunately, he usually became carelessly truthful in these situations as well. Which must have been what led him to add, "Alistair's the one who told me." As soon as it was out, Marshall realized his mistake and whitened. "I mean... zitch dog! One nothing! Wow, even in the dark I can own you guys at this game. Ha... Haha."

The forced laughter started to sound like a nervous question there at the end, and Barney couldn't help but break in once he found his voice. "_Alistair?_ Alistair. _He's_ the one who told you I...?" Barney let out a groan that was akin to a dying animal. He wasn't feeling so great all of a sudden. Much more sick at his stomach than he had been back at the station. Barney laid down in the seat, feeling the cool leather on his face. "Great," he mumbled, sounding wounded and utterly mortified. "I bet he's told Robin, too."

"He said he wouldn't," Marshall insisted.

Barney lifted his head just slightly as he stared incredulously up at Marshall in the reflection. "Oh, great. Well if Robin's boyfriend said he wouldn't tell her that her pathetic mess of a friend is in love with her, we should probably take his word for it, shouldn't we?" He dropped his head back to the leather seat, whimpering miserably. "How did he even find out in the first place?"

Lily gave him a forlorn look. "It's his job to read people... plus, it's kind of obvious."

"Fantastic," Barney shut his eyes and rubbed the heel of his palm against his eye, forgetting that it was currently blackened. A stab of pain ran through his eye, down the back of his neck and his spine. "Ow," he said flatly, unable to even muster enough energy to be properly in pain and feeling completely and utterly pathetic, more so now than probably at any point in his life. "God, Ted's right," he sighed under his breath.

"What do you mean, Barney?" Lily asked, again like you might ask a child. A stupid little kid, and no wonder she felt the need to talk to him like that, Barney thought. He was immature and selfish and just downright pathetic. He had run away in rebellion against Ted's insistence that he wasn't good enough for Robin, but had wound up just proving him right instead. And suddenly Barney was just feeling very cold and numb.

"Nothing," he said. "It's just..." he could feel his throat tighten and a shiver run down his spine. Barney curled up and rolled away so he was facing the seat back instead of Marshall and Lily. "Please, can we just drop it. Please."

He didn't need to look to know that the couple was exchanging those famous concerned looks, worried over their poor fuck up of a friend. The material of the seat-back was looking more and more appealing. Finally, Lily just said softly, "Sure, Barney." Even though she didn't sound sure at all. But at least they spent the rest of the ride back to the city in silence.

*****

Day had broken by the time they reached Marshall and Lily's apartment. Barney had insisted that they could just drop him back at his place, but they'd practically dragged him up and forced him to take a seat on the couch. "If not for you, then for me," Lily had said. She and Marshall had both taken the day off to stick around, which wasn't helping Barney's feeling of childishness.

"I don't need to be babysat," Barney countered, though in honesty he could see how that might not seem true from their perspective. He was having much too hard a time keeping up his self-deception. Which meant his outward defenses were crumbling, too.

Marshall returned from his room and gently tossed a night shirt at Barney. "Here. You gotta be sick of that suit, man. And you need to get some sleep."

He did and he was, but how could he say that? "Fine. Whatever," Barney said, tossing his jacket aside and unbuttoning his shirt. He didn't even bother trying to head to the restroom to change, instead slipping the night shirt on over his head then sliding his pants off underneath and kicking them haphazardly onto the floor along with his shoes. Finally, Barney sat down heavily on the couch, head in hands.

Marshall exchanged glances with Lily, who seemed to get some telepathic message from him, because she said, "I think I'm going to go back to bed for a while. You guys come get me if you need anything." How Marshall knew that Barney was in need of bro talk, Barney had no idea. But he looked at his friend gratefully as he sat down in the chair next to the couch. As completely mortifying as the means of discovery was, Barney was extremely relieved to know that Marshall knew his secret. At least it was one other person he didn't have to hide from.

Marshall just sat there, eyeing Barney carefully, waiting to see if he'd say something. But after a few moments, Marshall seemed unable to keep quiet any longer. "So," he said hesitantly, "Robin?"

"Yeah," Barney replied, looking down at his scraped-up hands.

"I guess that helps explain you acting all weird."

"Well I was trying not to... But I'm kind of sick of it, you know? The whole thing with trying so hard to be my normal, awesome self so she won't notice anything's wrong."

Marshall gave him a sort of gentle big-brother look. "Barney, nothing is wrong. You have feelings for her. That's a completely normal thing."

Barney didn't even have the energy to shake his head. "Yeah, well, kind of a moot point. Neither my normal, awesome self or this blathering idiot I sometimes turn into around her is doing much for her, is it? Guess I've gotten a little too good at pretending. It's kind of back-fired."

"I don't know... maybe she's just thrown by the giant mood swings. Because, you know, I can see it. You and her," Marshall said, a tenor of encouragement in his tone.

Barney glanced up at him seriously. "Maybe you can tell that to her, then. Or her boyfriend." He sounded extremely bitter, but couldn't even maintain that for long. He shook his head and sank back into the couch. "I don't know, though... Ted was talking to me the other day. Laying it all out there." He drew a ragged breath.

"What do you mean, exactly?"

Barney tried to shrug but couldn't force his body into the snonchalant gesture when he felt anything but easy-going. But he also couldn't bring himself to talk about the things Ted had said to him. It was harder now that he was starting to see the logic in them, made them hurt all the more. Marshall was a great bro, and it really did mean a lot to Barney that he was sticking this out. But a small voice in the back of his mind wondered if Marshall would be so supportive of him if he knew about the latest sexual harassment case or if anyone ever pointed out the things Ted had about all the reasons Barney wasn't up to Robin's standards.

Besides which, just thinking about it made Barney's chest tighten and his throat sting a little. There was no way he would be able to articulate his feelings right now in an even remotely calm or man-appropriate manner. He was terrified of word-vomiting all over the place if he even started to hint at what he was thinking. And that would be a very, very bad idea. So instead, Barney closed his eyes and said, "Never mind. Seriously, it's not a big deal."

"Well, that's clearly false," Marshall said, and Barney looked at him, a little edgy. "But I'm not gonna push you either, bro," Marshall added. "You deserve a nice, long nap."

"I don't know if 'deserve' is the right word. Kind of brought this on myself, dude."

"Okay, but you still need it." Marshall stood up. "There's a blanket behind the couch if you want it."

"Thanks," Barney said, his eyes returning to his hands, sliced up and bruised from his failed attempts at inflicting damage on the other guy. No matter how hard he'd swung and flailed around, it was like punching a brick wall. He was only hurting himself.

He felt Marshall's hand briefly on his shoulder as his friend walked past and in the direction of his room. "Come get us if you need anything. And please, _please_ don't run off to any more casinos, dude. Seriously."

"I know, that was stupid. I just..." Barney stopped himself again, glanced up at Marshall and smiled sadly. "Thanks for the help, Marshall."

"Hey," Marshall said with a shrug, "What are brothers for?"

Barney's eyes stung a little as he dropped his gaze quickly to the floor. He sniffed a bit, attempting to cover with a cough, as though he were just coming down with something. Sick from the lack of sleep, rather than sick straight down to his core. "Yep. Thanks," he replied tightly. And Marshall, God bless him, didn't say another word, turning and heading back to bed instead.


	11. Chapter 11

NOTE: I'm going out of town for a week for a wedding. Sorry to leave it where it is, but I'll try to work on it when I can, and will definitely jump back in when I get back.

* * *

Barney didn't want to tell Robin. He didn't want to tell anyone, but especially not her. But that wasn't going to be easy, especially with the bruises, which were like a beacon to her. The second she and Ted entered MacLaren's to see him sitting there with a purple eye and swollen lip, Robin was reduced to an awed teenager. It was the kind of attention Barney normally would have loved, if it hadn't been a reminder of his increasingly pathetic state. Now it just made him feel acutely embarrassed and a little ill.

"Woah, your eye," she practically cooed, scooting into the booth next to Barney, her hand reaching up to feel the bruise. He winced, his head snapping away from her, but not because it hurt. Not because it physically hurt, anyway. "What happened?"

Barney looked up at Marshall and Lily in the seat across from him, his eyes pleading for assistance. He could feel Ted staring at him in questioning anticipation, and he could feel Robin's breath on his face as she leaned into him. Marshall seemed to blank under pressure, as usual, and Lily scrambled to help. "He... he was hit by a piece of debris. From a construction site he was walking by. Crazy winds! Barney, you want to... tell them...that... story?" her voice kept getting higher and more uncertain as she went.

Barney just stared at her. "Wow," he said with a shake of his head, "You two really are worthless when it comes to making up cover stories. I'm guessing you never faked any illnesses as kids."

"I tried rabies once... Didn't really work," Marshall admitted.

"So wait, what really happened?" Ted asked, taking a seat at the end of the table. "That looks pretty bad."

Robin scoffed, "Bad _ass_ maybe." Her eyebrows shot up expectantly as she grinned. "Did you get in a fight?" she asked, like a kid in the same situation might.

Barney glanced over at her, a flash of shame flitting over his expression before looking down at his beer. He ran a finger along the foggy condensation, tracing a zig-zag pattern in it. "Yeah, kind of." He didn't want to look at Ted, but couldn't help it. His curiosity to know what his friend thought, his need to have Ted's backing was too much, and Barney's eyes slid up. The expression on Ted's face was serious and contemplative as he stared at Barney. It didn't take a lot of imagination to conclude that Ted was probably feeling like this proved his point about Barney's current state. This time, Barney couldn't argue with him. He just dropped his eyes back to his drink.

Meanwhile, Robin missed Barney's mood entirely, too caught up in her own natural excitement over the idea of fights and maiming. "Oh my God, really?" she asked. "One that you didn't run away from? That's awesome!" She held out her fist for a bump, and Barney listlessly obliged.

Ted seemed much more concerned. "Barney, where were you the last couple days? We were worried about you."

"Ted," Robin cut in, "Obviously we didn't need to be worried. Apparently Barney can hold his own." She gave him a jovial slap on the back, but he didn't return her grin or enthusiasm. She might have noticed if not for the fact that Alistair appeared next to her just then, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead.

"Hey," Alistair said, to Robin first but then with a wave at the others. He grabbed an extra chair and pulled it up between Robin and Ted. It was so casual, the way he just walked into the bar and took a place at their booth. Since when had that become okay? Since when did Alistair just have a place at the table? Barney tried not to glare. "What's going on?" Alistair asked, sensing he'd entered the middle of something, but apparently not having the good sense to know it was none of his business. Typical freaking psychiatrist.

"Barney got in a fight," Robin said with an appreciative nod. Alistair didn't look quite as happy about it, instead just eyeing Barney carefully, like he was sizing the other man up. Barney could tell that's what he was doing, and it frustrated him to no end. He was the one who was supposed to be sizing people up, finding their weaknesses to use against them. But having a _shrink_ around? It was like being caught under glass and a microscope.

"Have you heard, you know," Marshall began, "Uh, heard from that guy I got you in touch with?"

Barney appreciated that Marshall was at least trying to be tactful about this, even though at this point Barney wanted very badly just to switch the subject. That didn't seem likely to happen, though, judging by the collective interest. Instead, he gave in, nodding. "Yeah, he looked over the files for me. Said he was pretty sure he could get it to probation and no jail time. I mean, the max for this would just be a couple months anyway, but dear God... a couple months in nothing but jumpsuits? I'll take lethal injection." Besides, as many times as he'd dodged the feds while working at GNB, going to jail over a fist fight would just be embarrassing.

Ted's expression had shifted from vaguely disappointed to truly concerned somewhere around the word 'jail'. "Woah, Barney," he said, "How was jail even a possibility?"

Keeping his eyes on his beer glass as though it were the most interesting pair of breasts he'd ever seen, Barney replied quietly, "The guy I got into a fight with was kind of a casino security guard."

"A security guard?" Robin asked, and just the sound of her damn voice forced Barney to look at her. She was no longer eyeing him longingly, which he supposed was helpful, but the look of amusement in her eye now was kind of worse. She snorted. "Okay, now that is just dumb, dude."

It would have stung more had Barney not already been in a state of utter disarray. He'd spent all day on Marshall and Lily's couch watching Home Improvement reruns, at their insistence. But he was still tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleeping. His awesomeness algorithm seemed to have completely broken down. So all the offense Barney could muster was muttering, "Thanks, Robin," in a frustrated but mostly resigned tone. Because she was right. It had been incredibly stupid. What else was new?

"Robin," Alistair said, his tone slightly discouraging. "Now's probably not the time for joking."

Everyone's eyes snapped to Alistair, the same flabbergasted look passing over all their faces. Barney for one was so confused his eyebrows threatened to sink into one another from all the furrowing. He realized after a moment that Marshall, Lily, and Ted were now all staring at him instead of Alistair. It was only then that it dawned on Barney that everyone at the table knew his feelings for Robin except Robin. But why the _hell_ was Alistair defending him, then? Shouldn't he be pushing for Barney's Ass-Whooping: Round 2? A silence hung over the booth that was not so much awkward as it was utterly and completely baffled. No one seemed to know how to respond to Alistair seemingly sticking up for Barney.

Robin, however, was blissfully ignorant of the real reason everyone was so stunned. "Oh, come on guys," she insisted to the whole table, "You know I'm kidding. But this is what we do. A world where we can't make fun of Barney isn't a world I want to live in." She tried to sound wry, and she did, but it didn't have the desired impact on the others, who fell silent.

For his part, Barney was chewing on her words carefully. She needed this, he realized. They all did. The levity, the friendly ribbing. He suddenly felt guilty for being in such a depressed mood. It felt like dereliction of duty or something. But everyone was looking between him and Robin nervously, expecting some kind of anger or weird tension to increase between them. That was the last thing Barney wanted. He just wanted everyone to stop staring at him. Lily and Marshall with their pity, Ted with his morbid interest in what would happen, Alistair with... whatever it was that guy was trying to convey.

So Barney forced a chuckle and said, "Hey, I'm sure this'll be great material in about a week. Give me some time to throw a routine together. Maybe call up Jerry Seinfeld for some tips..." His attempt at making light of things sounded lame even to him.

Which, ironically, wound up being a better way of convincing Robin that something was seriously wrong than just putting it in words would. She frowned and said, "Wow, you really are off tonight, huh?" A beat, then, "Sorry, didn't realize how serious this was, I guess. Distracted by the bruises, because, come _on_." She didn't seem able to resist that little comment, and Barney could have sworn he saw her licking her lips a little.

He cleared his throat, sat up straighter, and even smiled. "Don't worry about it," he said, ostensibly to the group, though his eyes stayed on Robin 83% of the time, as usual. "I just need to learn to pick less visible places to throw down than in the lobby of a casino."

"Yeah, flashing neon lights? Not exactly inconspicuous." Robin replied with a grin.

Barney smiled a little, appreciating the way she could blissfully ignore the undercurrents. He didn't start out feeling like laughing about this at all, and it was a downer. Robin was the only one able to laugh at it because she was the only one who didn't know the truth. And, man, Barney was starting to get so antsy with all the pity-filled eyes on him- even _Alistair's_- that he really wished they were all as oblivious as Robin. Barney would normally be the one leading the charge out of sadness to awesomeness, but unfortunately he was the least capable of forgetting about the bigger picture here. "Right..." he said, sipping his beer. That was, sadly, the best he could do for lightness. He really was drained.

Alistair cleared his throat quite audibly and put a hand on Robin's shoulder. "Ah, are you ready to go to dinner?"

"Dinner?" Ted asked, his nose crinkling as he looked at the clock reading 10 pm. "Isn't it a little late for that?"

"Late? I got up early for this," Robin countered as she slid out of the booth.

Barney felt her presence departing from his side and couldn't say it didn't tug at his heart, watching her go. Even though it was a dull kind of tug now. Alistair slipped a hand around her waist just before they got to the door, and Barney almost let out a whimper. Instead, as soon as she was gone, he sank heavily down into the booth, as though relaxing from holding something heavy up for too long. "Shoot me now," he groaned miserably, sad eyes looking up at his three friends. He realized he'd never been candid about his feelings with all of them there. Not in 8 years of their tight-knit group. But he'd also never had his shields blown apart so thoroughly.

"Barney," Ted said, sitting forward and looking at his friend with concern, "Why didn't you tell me about this? I could have helped you out."

Barney moved only his eyes to look up at Ted, the rest of his body remaining slouched and defeated. "I didn't want you to be mad at me." He hoped he wouldn't be forced to draw him a picture, since reliving what Ted had told him a few days before in front of Marshall and Lily would only make things worse. "And it was their turn to come get me out of a jam in the middle of the night," he said, motioning to the couple.

"At least it didn't involve a sex swing this time," Lily said.

Ted seemed able to pick up on the real source of Barney's misery, and clammed up about it, thankfully. Barney took a deep breath as he pulled himself up by the edges of the table. "Marshall, can you do me a favor?" he asked, his tone slipping back into the serious one of earlier in the night.

"Of course," Marshall replied just as seriously, still dealing with Barney carefully, like he was made of glass and might shatter. Barney resented that a little. It was completely true.

"I have this lawsuit I wanted you to help me with. It's a," his eyes darted nervously to Ted's, "a sexual harassment thing. Against me."

Marshall and Lily exchanged glances, and Barney could tell that was a distinct _again?_ look, even though they were smart enough not to say it out loud. Instead, Marshall cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "You know I want to help you, Barney, but I'm not sure if getting you off the hook for something like that is really the kind of thing I want to use my license for. Or that it would actually help you, in the long run." He sounded apologetic yet unwavering.

"No, I-" Barney had an urge to look at Ted, but didn't, fixing his gaze on Marshall instead. "I kind of wanted to settle it. Out of court."

Marshall blinked. "You really think you can't beat this one?"

Barney scoffed in his trademark way. "Oh, trust me, I could." He realized immediately that he sounded too proud of that, that his friends were all giving him slightly disgusted looks. His confident expression immediately faded. "No, it's that I... I don't really want to. Beat it." Out of the corner of his eye, Barney caught Ted's eyebrows leaping up. "I mean, I did the stuff she said I did. I'm not... proud of it." A little part of his brain was disgusted at himself for saying that. The part of him that was convinced hitting on hot chicks in foreign languages was always something to be proud of. The part of him that usually got those chicks to bang him. The part of him that wound up in drunken brawls and Jersey jail cells.

"I'm proud of you," Lily jumped in, causing Barney to look at her with surprise. "Not the harassment part, obviously," she added with a note of humor. Then, sincerely, "But fessing up. I know it's not easy, but it's a very mature thing to do." She squeezed his hand briefly and smiled encouragingly at him, a smile that was matched by Marshall's.

Barney felt a surge of affection towards Lily, the kind he imagined one might have towards a protective big sister. Even if Lily was both younger and much shorter than him. He hadn't worked up the nerve to talk to his real family about this, knowing how much it would upset them. It was nice having a substitute one instead. "Thanks, Lil," he said, his eyes showing how deeply he appreciated her support.

"Dude, I'm happy to help you with that. Absolutely," Marshall chimed in. "We'll make sure she doesn't take all your suits in the settlement." Barney's eyes widened in terror for a moment until Marshall jumped in, "Kidding! Okay, not something to joke about. I don't know how much she's seeking in damages or anything but if you settle it'll be a lot less. I'm happy to come by and look at the case files tomorrow."

"Thanks," Barney said, still feeling extremely embarrassed over the ordeal - the series of ordeals. But somehow, he also felt a little more free. It was a subtle shift, but a welcome one with all the pressure he'd been feeling tugging him down all evening. It probably also helped that Robin had left.

Marshall glanced at his watch, then at Lily. "Baby, I hate to say it, but it's almost past your bedtime. You don't want to fall asleep before nap time tomorrow."

Lily yawned. "Why did you have to bring up sleep? I wasn't tired." But clearly, that had quickly changed. She sighed. "Okay, you're right. We should go." Barney watched as the couple slid out of the booth, Marshall's hand settling comfortably on Lily's back. It looked so _easy, _the way they always showed affection. It was one of the many things Barney secretly admired about them.

"We'll talk tomorrow, Barney. Make sure to get some rest," Marshall admonished gently. "Absolutely _no_ betting or drunkenness or fights."

"Don't worry, it didn't take much to cure me of any desire to get punched in the face," Barney said, moving his jaw around and wincing at the pain. He wondered idly if chicks who thought bruises were hot fully appreciated just how freaking much it hurt to get them. Looking between Marshall and Lily, he added "Seriously, I won't do that to you guys again."

"Don't do it to yourself again," Marshall corrected.

"Good night, Barney," Lily added gently, waving as they turned and headed for the door.

There was a long and not terribly comfortable silence as Barney avoided looking at Ted. In an odd way, Barney felt ashamed of admitting to doing something good. It was the reason he'd never wanted to admit to flying to San Francisco to get Lily or to sprinting across town to meet Ted in the hospital. It was so much easier to brag about disgusting and dubious activities. Something was clearly cross-wired in his brain, he realized. The fact that he was starting to realize that scared the hell out of him.

Ted seemed to recognize that Barney would go for hours without saying anything else about his mature, sensible deed, and finally spoke up. "Hey, I'm really glad you listened. About this harassment case and everything."

"You were right," Barney admitted freely. "I think after last night that became pretty clear to me. I mean, I went to Atlantic City because I was pissed off about the stuff you said to me. But I kind of wound up proving your point." He smiled in an extremely self-deprecating manner. "Maybe I should listen to you more often."

Ted drew in a breath, pausing to look down at his hands before eyeing Barney evenly and speaking deliberately. "I don't want you to take everything I said to heart."

Barney gave him a questioning look. "You meant what you said, though, right?" He knew it was true. "I mean, people tend to say what they really mean when they're angry, and I think that qualified as angry. And maybe it was a good thing you got to that point..."

"Look," Ted replied uneasily, carefully, "The sentiment behind what I was saying, that part I meant. But I meant it for your own good. I shouldn't have been such a jerk about it. I didn't mean to get so personal. To say some of the things I did..."

"Okay," Barney jumped in before Ted could say more. "I get what you mean, just _please, _don't say them again. Not even to apologize for them." He sounded as desperate as he felt. The wounds Ted had opened up were still gaping and not at all prepared to be salted.

Ted looked guilty as he nodded in agreement. "Don't worry, I won't. I just feel bad about pushing you towards this." He waved to Barney's bruises and overall less than awesome state of being. "I hate to see you so miserable, man. If there's anything I can do...?"

Barney shrugged listlessly. "Just... stop me if you see me starting to do something really stupid, okay? Drug me if you have to. Find a hot girl to flash me if it comes to that. I'll endure it." He couldn't resist a little wink, and Ted smiled at the familiarity of it, perhaps reassured that Barney wasn't completely depressed. Just resigned. "Anything to distract me, especially," Barney's voice became more earnest, "if it's around Robin. Like lighting her boyfriend on fire? Things like that."

Ted laughed a little. "I'll do my best. And if I'm not there and you even think you might need someone to talk you down, give me a call."

"Like use the Bat Signal?" Barney asked.

"I was thinking more like speed dial," Ted replied, "but you're right, Bat Signal is better."

"I'll get one. I know a guy." Barney was only half kidding about that. He relaxed a little, feeling the tension between him and Ted had eased. Barney sipped down the last dregs of his beer then prepared himself to get up. "Thanks for knocking some sense into me, bro," he said.

Ted still looked guilty, and like he wanted to add something. Barney even looked at him for a moment to give him a chance to speak up, but Ted looked conflicted, and said nothing. Whatever it was, he clearly wasn't sure enough of himself to vocalize it. Instead, he just said, "You heading out so early?"

"Yeah, man," Barney said, standing and shaking his limbs out a little. They felt tingly and heavy, not just from sitting in one place for a long time, but it was a good excuse. "I'm glad we had this talk. As weird as this whole night was... guess I couldn't hide forever." He couldn't run away from reality anymore, either. They'd both admitted that Ted had been right about the whole Robin thing. Barney could see that now. It meant the death of his confidence and of that hope he'd been hanging on to. It left him feeling hollow and drained, but maybe that was just how it had to be.

"Yeah," Ted said, not sounding entirely sure that he was happy about it. "Go get some rest. Be safe. Don't stress yourself out." Don't think about Robin, Barney might have heard him add telepathically. She was happy for once. He was a broken mess. Maybe it really was time to let go. To do something Barney Stinson never did- surrender.

Because he was done with fighting. With flailing. With stretching for something out of his reach.

"Good night, Ted," Barney said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Maybe now, he thought as he headed out into the brisk night, now he could go back to being himself.

*****

It was two hours later when a pounding on his door jolted Barney out of his restful state. He had been reclined on the couch, watching a Sci-Fi Channel original movie with his shoes, socks, belt, and jacket removed. Not in a state for late-night company, he realized, panicking a little as he sprang to his feet and turned the TV off before strolling casually to the door. He gave himself a beat to collect his suave confidence before opening the door to whatever desperate babe had dropped by.

His confidence evaporated like water in the Mohave when he saw who it was. "Robin," he said, trying not to sound flustered. He was past that, he reminded himself. (Why did he have to remind himself?) He'd given up. So instead, he would just be cool. "What are you-"

She shoved him backwards angrily, much to his surprise. It was only then that he realized her eyes were red and puffy. There were no visible tear-stains on her cheeks or anything, but of course she would have removed all the evidence she could. "What did you do?" she asked, her voice gravelly. He tried hard not to think that was a _little_ sexy.

But he was more confused than anything. "What did I do about what?" There were so many things he'd done lately that people could be mad at him for. It was hard to decipher what she meant. Because she hadn't been the least bit troubled by his fight, quite the opposite. As he racked his brains to think of something else that would anger Robin enough to get her to actually come to his apartment in the middle of the night, she continued to fume.

"I just don't get it," she said vaguely. "I know that you never liked Alistair, thought he was messing up the group dynamic or something, but did you even think about how I felt Barney? That I was actually happy in this relationship?"

Something twisted inside him at the mention of Alistair. Something that was supposedly dead. And the twisting was dull, like sounds traveling through water, but it was still there. Still hurt. Barney's eyebrows knitted together. "Robin, I don't know what you're talking about, seriously. What happened?"

She let out a shuddering sigh and sank onto the couch, her fury seeming to give way to simple sadness and exhaustion. She looked up at Barney, and he couldn't help but notice how overtly miserable she was when she finally said, "Alistair broke up with me."

He should have danced. He should have done the Ickey Shuffle and maybe even the Worm right then and there. But he didn't. The weird thing was, he didn't even really feel like it. Because looking at Robin and seeing how much she was hurting, how could he possibly be happy about that? Any selfish satisfaction he might have gotten from this breakup was completely overridden by his sense of compassion for Robin. "I'm sorry," he said in a low, sincere tone.

That seemed to catch Robin off-guard and dissipated her anger even further. Sinking into the couch, she seemed more confused than anything. "I just don't get it. We went out to eat and it seemed like everything was going great, and then he just brought it up... this stuff about how he didn't think our relationship was good for either of us in the long run." She shook her head. "I have no idea what he's talking about." She laughed a little, wiping a hand across her face. "And why on earth am I _crying_? It's not like I was desperately in love with the guy. But I was just... happy."

Barney felt utterly immobilized, but somehow managed to get his legs to carry him over to the couch so he could sit a respectable distance away from her. "Hey," he said, not reaching out to touch her but wanting to. That would not lead his mind to any constructive places, or memories. "The guy is clearly an idiot. His brain has been fried by the Outback heat." She laughed a little. He paused, mostly because she looked at him and it made his whole being seize up. "But I'm a little confused about why you're here. Not that I don't want to listen, as a friend," he added quickly. "But isn't Ted like, 20 feet away from your room?"

That seemed to remind her of why she came over here, and a touch of the anger and confusion from when she'd first walked in the door resurfaced. She didn't shout, but she certainly had an edge to her voice that said she wasn't going to leave without an explanation. "I need to talk to you, not Ted."

"Why?" he asked tentatively, his heart threatening to leap out of his mouth and right onto the leather couch between them. Dammit, why was it that she couldn't leave the thing heavy and dead inside his chest? Wasn't it enough that it was dead? Why did she have to insist on having it removed postmortem so she could see for herself?

Robin looked at him steadily. "I'm hoping you can answer that, because I honestly don't know. When I tried to ask Alistair what he meant by the relationship being bad for us, he said it had to do with our 'group dynamic' or whatever. But he wouldn't explain it anymore."

She had her eyes fixed on him, like she was waiting to see any kind of reaction when she said, "So he told me to ask you."


	12. Chapter 12

Barney felt like he was in an elevator that had just dropped a few floors and jolted to a stop. He stared at Robin, wide-eyed but trying his hardest not to reveal that he was hiding anything at all. "Me?" he said, scoffing loudly. "He's... that's... that's just crazy. I mean, what did he mean by that?" Barney could feel a trickle of sweat instantly collecting at the base of his neck. He shouldn't be feeling nervous, shouldn't be feeling anything anymore. That was the plan. Instead, his heart was racing.

Robin's expression turned from one of determined inquiry to one of vague confusion as she watched his obvious attempt to imitate a normal human being. "I think you're supposed to tell me that," she pointed out, still eyeing him like he had suddenly sprouted flowers from his forehead. And there was nowhere to hide, no hot chicks walking by to distract himself with suddenly. Barney just had to sit there. With Robin. Staring at him.

He was going to kill Alistair. That was the only truly clear thought that came to mind. He was going to straight up murder him. Forget what he'd said about wanting to avoid jail. It would be worth it. "I... Me? Well..." Barney swallowed. Who the hell did Alistair think he was, sicking Robin on him like this? And of course, of _course_ it would happen just when Barney had resigned himself to getting past this, maybe even growing up a little. Now he was suddenly right back to babbling incoherently, only now with even less skill than before. "I dunno. Something to do with... you know, the fire stuff, how he and I don't get along. Maybe he realized how much he was messing the group dynamic up and how much of a tool he was being because c'mon, right?" he laughed nervously, then cleared his throat. "So... heeey, you want to order a... pizza?"

"A pizza," Robin stated, blinking. She was clearly not buying this one bit. "I just came here from dinner. And since when do-" she stopped, running a hand over her forehead. "You know what, never mind." She let out a sigh. Barney held his breath. "So you're saying he just thought he didn't fit in with the group?" Barney nodded enthusiastically, still not daring to breathe. "Okay, but Barney... this is just you. You're the only one who's making him feel that way. The others have been cool with Alistair. What's the deal?"

He was toying with the idea of continuing to hold in that breath until he passed out. However, as good a short-term solution as that would be, Barney had a feeling he'd just wake up in a hospital to Robin still nagging him. Then he'd have a headache for two reasons. So instead, he exhaled slowly, attempting to calm himself and find a way to cover his sudden panic attack. "Well we, you and I, we're..." his eyes darted away from hers for a second, before he composed himself. "We're bros, you know? It sucks losing your best bro."

It looked like some kind of recognition or remembrance flashed across her features. Apparently, he'd said the right thing, because it looked like she bought it. "We're still bros if I'm dating someone. We were bros when I was dating Ted, weren't we?" she asked.

"Kind of," he said, letting out a sigh of relief as he felt his heart-rate slowing. His initial panic was starting to calm as he felt himself settling into the half-truth he was telling. "But you remember how that was. You and Ted, Marshall and Lily, all hanging out doing the couple thing. It just really cuts down on my options for laser tag partners. I hate to see you coupley people being so lame. It's depressing."

Robin studied him carefully for a moment, smiling a little at his normal Barney self, but also seeming to see something else there. Which naturally made him feel like his skin was itching and he needed to crawl out of it. Finally, she said, somewhat seriously, "Look, Barney... we're not going to stop being your friends, okay? You don't have to worry about that."

"Right, because none of you would ever, say, stop talking to me for months." His voice and expression were much more sour than Barney had anticipated. He hadn't meant to say it like that. He was just trying to deflect away from Alistair's comment. But after everything that had happened in the last few days, his deflector shields were blown. He realized that too late for his own good.

"Come on," Robin urged him gently, "You know that would never, ever happen again."

He looked over at her, his eyes flashing something that looked like anger but felt like pain. "Yeah, well, that's what I thought the first time. I stupidly thought that my best friend would appreciate me being honest with him and apologizing. I thought he'd be mad but would be understanding. Because you know what, he never would have cut _you_ off, for any reason. Or Marshall, or Lily." Any anger that Barney did have was completely consumed by those raw gaping wounds Ted had opened in his chest. And he was feeling that heaviness, that weary resignation he'd just been telling himself he was okay with. But if he was so okay with it, why wasn't he meeting Robin's eyes anymore?

"I'm sorry, Barney," Robin said, sounding sincere but also letting out a small sigh. "I don't know how else to say that. I really hate that it's still hurting you, but we've all tried our best to let you know we care about you." He looked up sharply, but it only took a glance for him to realize she meant it in the most general and platonic of ways. He sighed, unsure if it was out of relief or frustration. Robin continued, "I mean, dude, Star Wars laser tag? I don't rock he cinnamon bun hair for just anyone."

"Yeaaah, and you probably shouldn't," Barney drawled, earning him a playful glare from Robin.

"But you know, that whole thing was Ted's idea," she pointed out. "He felt really awful about what happened at your other party. And seriously, he really values your friendship. We all do."

Barney waved her away before she could get too close to gushy platitudes. "Yeah, I know. And that meant a lot to me. It's just... I dunno. I kind of wish..." _that you guys saw me as a real person_, he wanted to say. Scream. Put into song, maybe with interpretive dance. But how could he? It was his own damn fault that they didn't. Sure, he was genuinely awesome, obviously. But why did he have to pretend to be even when he felt like shit? "I wish we could do group laser tag more often. You guys whetted my appetite. You shouldn't tempt the Barnacle with legendary outings like that. I'll get addicted." He grinned. _Why? _When his brain was agonizing over this exact behavior, _why_ did he have to keep doing it?

(Un)fortunately, Robin wasn't in the mood and was clearly seeing right through the extremely thin veil he was putting up. She looked at him seriously and said, "You're a good friend, Barney."

That caught him off guard, causing his impish grin to falter. "Thanks," he said, sounding not at all convinced.

"I'm serious," she added, shifting so that she was turned sideways on the couch, curling her feet up under her and looking at him. His eyes moved very slowly, cautiously towards hers, and he could tell she meant what she was saying. "You really do a lot for all of us. And I trust you. You are someone I can have an actual conversation with." The reference to that awkward non-date conversation all those months ago didn't escape him. "I feel like you're a friend I can talk to, who gets me." She smiled wryly. "Let's face it, a lot better than the saps sometimes."

His eyebrows raised and he smiled a little. "Well, if I had a soul to pour out, I would definitely do it on you." Barney paused, his eyes crinkling as he looked up to the left in thought. "Hm... that came out a lot dirtier than I'd anticipated, but after consideration... yeah, I'm okay with it." He gave her a self-satisfied grin and she slapped his shoulder. His skin tingled through his shirt just from that contact.

Robin shook her head, smiling at him in a manner he might almost call fond. "Hey, I'm sorry Alistair made you feel like your bros were getting taken away again. It's just," she let out a sigh, studying him carefully as she bit her lip. "Jeez, this is gonna sound really lame."

"Are you gonna say it in Canadian?" he asked. "Because that's the only time Robin Scherbatsky sounds lame. And I'm not talking partially lame- _totally_ lame."

She gave him a scathing look he could tell she didn't really mean. "You're not helping, Stinson." He held up his hand in front of his mouth as if to apologize and beckon her to go on. "You know, it's that thing I told you when we went to IHOP. That... settling down thing. Thinking about that, for the future. Once I realized that, it just made me feel like now if I'm dating someone, I have to think of him as a potential husband. And that's a ridiculous amount of pressure, you know?"

Barney swallowed hard. For some reason just hearing her use those words pained him. Made him feel like she was suddenly rocketing forward while he was standing still. "Sure," he managed to croak out.

Fortunately, Robin was too self-absorbed at the moment to notice. She was looking down at her hands, fiddling with her nails. "It's not like I was planning on marrying the guy. But this was the first time I've actually dated someone, since Ted. Actually been with a nice guy." She caught herself, paling a little as she scrambled to add, "Not that you... I mean, you're nice, but what happened between us was so weird. I just forget..."

Barney laughed lowly. "Robin, it's fine," he said with a smirk. "You're not going to offend me. You don't have to pretend I'm a nice guy. I mean, strings of bimbos. And," he gestured to his blackened eye, "drunken casino fights? Remember?"

"Okay, seriously," she said, holding a hand up. He thought he noticed her turning a little red. "Pointing to your bruises. It's like dangling a side of beef in front of a bear, dude. And the object here isn't to get me to jump you, so cool it."

He arched an eyebrow. "It isn't?" he asked, with a slight waggle of his eyebrows.

Robin gave him a nervous smile, like she wasn't sure if he was kidding or not. He wasn't, either, but he kept grinning suggestively. Robin's face started to fall and she cleared her throat. "No," she said evenly, "It isn't. I thought you were lending a friendly ear."

"Oh there are friendlier parts I can lend you," he said. As soon as it was out his mouth, he wanted to grab it out of the air and shove it back in. Especially because now Robin was looking angry.

"Is that seriously your only answer to me wanting to have a conversation with you?"

"No," he squeaked out, backpedaling.

"Because I am genuinely trying to take you seriously as a friend and you're making it a little hard." Barney bit his lip to hold in a 'that's not the only thing that's a little hard' comment. Even _he_ wasn't a big enough idiot to let that one slip at a time like this. From the flash of anger in Robin's eyes, he had a feeling she knew that he was thinking it, though. But hey, what did that say for her? She let out a sigh. "You can't let sex-therapy be your answer to everything."

He stared at her, gaping. His mouth opening like the holes in his chest. Another time, he would have let it go. But his shields were gone and the bile was rising in his stomach at an alarming rate. He spat some out with his words. "_My_ answer to everything?" he said, the acidic tone clearly surprising Robin. He turned so that he was facing her more directly. He was right in front of her. Couldn't she see the holes? She at least had to be able to hear them in his voice. "Excuse me, miss 'my boyfriend broke up with me, do you want to come back to my place?'. Or 'my ex is getting married, I was hoping I could room with you'." Barney ground his teeth together, jaw tight. "Oh! And let's not forget- 'Ted, let's stop fighting and just have sex instead'. But sure, Robin. I'm obviously the one who uses sex to solve everything."

She was visibly taken aback, her expression a mixture of resentment and worry. "I don't-" she stammered. "I mean, it's not the only way I..." Robin composed herself, setting her jaw. "Look, the whole point of this conversation was to open up to you as a friend. Which isn't easy for me, either."

"Well it's not going to work," Barney replied, his voice still elevated from how worked up he was.

"Why not? Why can't we just talk like two normal friends?!" Robin's voice matched his.

"Because, because," his mind was racing to think up something, an excuse, a distraction, anything. But there were no walls and there were wounds and how dare she come over here when he'd just resigned himself to getting over her! "This was never about wanting to be your friend!" he shouted it, like that would make her hear him more clearly. Yeah right.

She scowled, annoyed and confused. "What the hell do you-"

Barney's lips crashed into hers before she could say anything else. Because it was the only way to shut her up. But as she instantly went quiet and still, he couldn't hide behind that excuse any more. And all of a sudden he was kissing her slowly, tenderly, like he meant it. Because, God, he meant it. His hand snaked up to gently cup her face. He kissed her in a way he never kissed his bimbos, his conquests. In a way he couldn't even pretend to kiss them. Because this kiss, this gentle heartfelt kiss, was the way you kissed the perfect woman, and no one else. He savored it, the taste, the soft feeling, the warmth that reached all the way down to his gut. Because he knew this was his last chance. She wouldn't make this same mistake again.

Robin didn't pull away, but she also didn't kiss him back much either; she was too busy being frozen with shock. It probably didn't even go on that long, but it felt like an eternity to Barney. Eventually he did sense the discomfort and surprise on her end enough to slowly pull back. His eyes were screwed tightly shut, and he just kept thinking, _please, please get it. Please don't make me say it._

"Barney," Robin said quietly, sounding a little out of breath. "I- ... you-"

It was a good thing she spoke, because her voice was the only thing that gave him the power to crack his eyelids open. He was slightly hunched over, feeling very small as he looked up at her. It was her turn to gape, and the fact that he couldn't read her expression was agonizing. "I... yeah," he said, clearing his throat and scooting back. "Yeah," he said, with a cough. He wasn't sure what he'd been hoping her response would be. Really, he hadn't expected anything because he hadn't been thinking ahead at all. His eyes were wide, like he was in as much shock as she was over what had just happened. Finally, he ran the back of his hand across his mouth, tasting a hint of her vanilla lip gloss as he did.

Well, there was no faking this one. No explaining it away. And in his current state, he couldn't have even if he'd wanted to anyway. Instead of flailing wildly for an excuse, Barney just let out a sigh, his shoulders feeling heavy once again. That weight hadn't been gone for long. "Robin, look," he said in a low voice, casting his eyes downward. "I wasn't ever using you or tricking you. I meant what I said about you being the second most awesome person I know." He forced himself to look up at her as he continued. It made him feel like his chest was in a vice. Like he was allergic to her, couldn't breathe. "I know I told you that, but since then I've realized... the truth is, you're _way_ more awesome than I am."

Her eyebrows lifted like they were being tugged up suddenly by strings, like a marionette. Apparently not something she expected to hear him say. "Wow, thats's.... you sure you're feeling okay?" she chuckled softly.

He laughed dryly. "No, I'm pretty sure I'm not, actually. I've had this chronic... thing." She looked confused until he tapped his chest and gave her a sheepish look. Which in turn made her fidget uncomfortably. She was so unsettled by all of this, he could tell. What did he expect, really? Her womanizing bro was pouring out his non-existent heart to her. "I don't expect anything from you. Maybe before I would have. But I've been realizing a lot of things, and a big one is that... Robin, you're _way_ out of my league. I'm the minors to your majors, dude."

She looked like she was about to object, to save his feelings. But not to add any of her own, he was sure. That much was pretty clear by now. Barney held up a hand to stop her saying anything. "Don't bother with the 'oh Barney, that's not true, you're such a nice guy, yada yada'." He gave her a half-smile. "We went over this already. I'm not a nice guy. Maybe sometimes I'm a good friend, but I'm not a good person. The only time you sank down to my level was when you were feeling like a 'sad, self-loathing idiot'." He said the words pointedly, reminding her that it was a direct quote. "And I don't want you to sink to that. The kind of _company_ I keep," he chortled. "Not exactly well-adjusted geniuses. Or bright, self-reliant, awesome women," he gestured towards her.

Robin shook her head, closing her eyes momentarily. "Barney, when I said that... I didn't mean it like that. And this... I'm sorry, this is all just really sudden and confusing. I mean, if you felt... something," she danced around it, "I swear, I didn't know. I definitely wouldn't have done stuff like bringing Alistair to your birthday party if I had, I promise. I'm not that cruel."

Barney twitched a little just at that name. But he powered through, putting on a sad smile anyway. "Don't beat yourself up about it. I'm pretty good at imitating my normal self, mostly. It's just been getting way too hard. And I kind of don't want to anymore. Things have been happening, and I've just seen... well, as awesome as I am, there are parts of my normal self that I'm really not proud of." He thought of the sexual harassment case, the jail cell, the lost money, the painful bruise still ringing his eye. And sure, there were hundreds of women, too. But there were just as many tricks for luring women in. Never honesty. Never them wanting him for who he was. Far from it.

"But don't worry," he said with determination. "As much as this sucks and as awkward as this all is- sorry about that- I guess it had to happen. And now that it's out there, maybe I can actually start rebuilding my sanity." Whatever that was.

Robin had hardly said anything, and as good as he was at reading people, dammit if she wasn't a mystery to him right now. She seemed to be reeling, but he wasn't sure in which direction. However, he didn't need to know the details. She hadn't drawn him in for a deeper kiss, declared her own love for him, acted even a fraction as crazy as he was. That said enough. Her jaw was working like she was trying to find words, but it was painful to watch. He decided to give her a break.

Barney laughed nervously. "Listen, I'm kind of all out of speeches now," he said.

"Yeah, sorry I haven't said anything."

"You don't have to apologize. But uh," he scratched the back of his neck. "Maybe we should call it a night."

"Yes," she said, too quickly. Realizing how that might have sounded, she added. "Sorry, it's not that I'm trying to run away from you or anything. But, um, thinking would be nice." She looked at him for a beat, taking him in. And he could have sworn he saw a twinge of regret flashing over her features as she got to her feet. But she had already gotten into mission mode, and was taking the initiative towards the door before he could study her too closely.

Barney stood and followed her, hands in his pockets, eyes on the way her hair swept down over the curve of her shoulders. He had a memory, so clear he felt like he could taste it, of his lips ghosting over that curve, and down. Of her hands in his own hair, drawing tiny circles in his scalp as she drew him close. All he could do now was squeeze his eyes shut and hope the images, the sensations went away. Begin to exorcise her. But that sure as hell wasn't going to happen with her standing right there. She really, really needed to get out of here. Because he felt like his insides were shuddering, and it was only a matter of time before that reached his whole body.

His eyes were open again, and a polite smile was fixed on his face by the time Robin turned around to face him. She looked up at him, still confused and searching his face. But not adoring, he thought. Not longing. He couldn't allow himself to even imagine seeing those things there. Wouldn't let himself. She didn't even try to smile. "Um," she shifted awkwardly, uncomfortable, practically ready to bolt at this point. "I'm really sorry I can't seem to string together a sentence. I feel like an idiot," she said.

"Don't sweat it," he said casually, pulling himself together. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. It's fine."

"But I do, I just don't know what to say," she said, looking serious and remorseful. It was making him uncomfortable. He swallowed, and so did she. "I guess I'll see you soon probably. Maybe my brain will be working by then."

"Yeah, I'll see you around," he said, smirk deliberately in place. "Can you do me a favor, though?" She raised her eyebrows to urge him to go on. "Don't tell the guys I called myself a minor leaguer? As far as they know, I'm still A-Rod." His smirk got broader and he nodded. "Yeah," he drawled characteristically, proud of himself.

But she didn't laugh. And that scared him. Oh shit. She wasn't going to stop laughing with him now, was she? Was she just going to stare at him with guilt, feeling sorry for him, feeling awkward? What had he done He tried not to let panic grip him too strongly. But Robin looked at him so seriously as she said, "Goodnight Barney." And that shuddering was reaching his hands, threatening to take over his whole body. He had to get her out, _now_.

"Night," he said, easing the door shut before she had really completely stepped out of the doorway. But the vice-like pressure on his chest was getting to be too much for his lazily thrown together smirk to withstand. Any second, his lungs were going to explode, he would fall to the floor, gasping for air. When he shut the door behind her, he immediately crumpled against it. Every shred of composure he had left was now completely and utterly destroyed. It was only physical will that kept him from sliding all the way to the floor. Instead, Barney slowly marched in the direction of his room. He moved like a zombie, his body barely keeping him moving when all his spirit wanted to do was take over and start yelling, smashing things, downing Scotch until he wound up doing something really stupid_ again_. And he couldn't do that. Really, really couldn't do that.

So instead Barney marched straight through his room to the bathroom. He stepped straight into the shower, fully clothed, and closed the glass door behind him. He turned the knob all the way to cold and, without hesitation, turned the water on. The icy water hit him directly in the face, but he didn't flinch. He was having trouble breathing and it was making it hard to feel any part of his body but his pounding heart and his shaky lungs. Within seconds his shirt was soaked through, his suit pants grew heavy with water, his hair was flattened down against his skull. He just stood there, waiting, willing himself to wake up. It was time to wake up.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's note: I deeply apologize for the long break between the last chapter and this one. I was out of town and out of contact for 2 weeks, but now I'm back pretty much for the summer. Thanks for sticking around!

* * *

It was easy to see, in retrospect. All the signs were there. The (more) irrational behavior, what had seemed like random hostility that now made sense as jealousy. Looking back on recent history, Robin could tell Barney's feelings or... whatever, had probably been evident to everyone but her. For some reason, the first nagging question that latched onto her brain was not 'how did I miss this?' or even 'how the hell did this happen?' but instead 'how long?'.

There was part of her that suspected that might wind up being the key to the other answers anyway. How long had Barney Stinson been looking at her differently without her noticing? She would have just asked the others, but four days after Barney's awkward confession, it was pretty obvious by the lack of interrogations or squealing that the others didn't know he'd said anything. Robin sure as hell wasn't going to tell them, and apparently Barney hadn't either.

So she couldn't even make an actual list of retroactive observations with her friends' help. But she was making a mental list on her own that included things like setting Alistair on fire and, she realized, stopping her and Ted from fighting so they wouldn't sleep with each other. The mental list had also briefly included the infamous non-date dinner, but she'd quickly erased that because that was nine months ago. And if he'd felt this way back then, it opened up a whole other realm of possibilities she didn't want to think about.

On the fifth day, Robin gave up asking 'how long?' It was freaking her out too much.

Instead, she set about trying to reconcile the past evidence with the present. She could accept that this at least explained some of Barney's behavior lately. It was logical. And luckily none of this required personal reflection. Actually, it was better to take herself out of the equation. Wouldn't want to be a biased observer, would she? Of course not. Better to keep the focus on Barney.

She focused on Barney long and hard. And she saw the weirdest thing. Namely, nothing. Not a sheepish glance in her direction. Not a forced awkward laugh. Not even a gratuitous amount of bimbo-hunting. Every time Robin really studied him carefully, he seemed... normal. Or kind of like a cross between a normal person and his normal self. He was still gross but also chilled out. Like whatever had been hanging over him before, causing him to be so skittish, had disappeared.

On the sixth day, he swung into the apartment and took a seat next to Ted on the couch, letting out a sigh. "So, community service," was all he said.

Ted sat upright. "That's good, right?"

Barney shrugged. "Yeah. Better than spending a couple months in jail. But it's _New Jersey_ community service."

Ted shuddered. Robin kept quiet, watching the scene from the kitchen. She'd have taken notes if she could, on just how typical and unremarkable it seemed.

"Still," Barney said, leaning back and putting his feet up on the coffee table. "Ain't the first time I've bagged some trash in Jersey, know what I'm sayin'?"

Ted held up a hand for a fist bump. "Yeah you did."

"Had to," Barney replied, not even looking at his friend as he casually returned the gesture.

Robin shook her head. Maybe she was blowing this out of proportion. What had Barney said to her, really? Just that there was something there on his end but that he understood it wasn't going to work. Okay, that was heavy paraphrasing, but it was the jist of it, right?

She had just about resigned herself to the conclusion that she'd been reading too much into Barney's supposed confession. That things were going back to normal.

Until, on the evening of the seventh day, she turned on the TV at 2am as she was getting ready for work. Naturally, Ted had it set on PBS. Some physics documentary. And dammit if that, of all things, wasn't her undoing.

*****

"Have you guys ever heard of the Double Slit experiment?" Robin said, her beer sloshing over the side of her mug onto the table as she sad down across from Marshall and Lily.

"Hello to you, too," Lily said, exchanging glances with her husband as they observed Robin's abrupt and strange entrance.

Robin kept herself from rolling her eyes. Why should she bother with empty pleasantries for people she saw every day when she was in the middle of a serious scientific investigation? "Hi," she said, to appease them. Then, quickly, "It's this quantum physics thing."

"Oh, sure, I remember that from my lesson plans now. Right in between finger painting and counting in Spanish," Lily said with her own chipper form of sarcasm.

"Actually, I think I remember this one from somewhere," Marshall chimed in, looking up as if recalling. "It's something about the dual particle-wave nature of light, right? Like they made one slit and the light just went through in a line and registered on the light sensitive paper like a normal particle would. But then... I forget how the rest went."

"Right!" Robin sat forward, not sure why she was so excited about this. "But when they made two slits, instead of two straight lines there was all this noise, an interference pattern. Like the light was a wave and particle at the same time. And," she paused for effect, "it could only have happened if the particles were interfering _with themselves_."

"Yes!" Marshall exclaimed, practically slamming his beer down. "That's what it was! How weird is that, right?"

Lily looked between Robin and Marshall in slight disgust. "Okay, you two have both spent way too much time around Ted."

"Baby," Marshall whined insistently, "They proved mathematically the photons went through _both holes at the same time!" _Robin snorted, very nearly making an extremely Barney-esque joke about holes, but caught herself in time._ "_Which," Marshall said, "some people think might eventually lead us to understanding how to time travel."

At that, Lily's eyes lit up genuinely and she let out an 'ooooh' of excitement. This time Robin did roll her eyes. "Guys, c'mon. This isn't some excuse for your crazy sci-fi fantasies."

"Having dinner with Jules Verne is a totally reasonable life goal," Marshall countered plainly, as if Robin had to be nuts not to see that.

"Not to mention having sex with-" Lily faltered as her husband shot her a look, "...in William Wallace's house. With Marshall!" She gave him an unconvincing smile.

"Focus, people!" Robin nearly shouted, surprising all three of them. Evidently she was more intent on finishing out this little metaphor than any of them had realized. "Look, here was the really weird part of this documentary, though... So they, the uh, scientist guys were like, 'these seemingly normal things that are around us all the time- light photons - are actually nuts.'"

"Direct quote from the Nobel Prize winning paper," Lily stated with a nod.

"You know what I mean. It is weird, though, right?" Robin slid a hand along the side of her beer glass in thought. "We know photons behave really strangely because we have the evidence from these experiments. Even if it's really hard to believe."

Marshall narrowed his eyes at her, but Robin didn't meet his expression. She cleared her throat and continued in a cool manner, "So anyway, they decided to try to set a camera up that could see the photons, so they would be able to observe what was really happening. But when they did- this is where it gets really trippy. They only got two straight lines on the photo paper stuff. No weird interference patterns, no bizarre behavior, nothing. Just particles acting... normal."

There was a short but heavy pause. Then-

"Oh my God!" Marshall exclaimed, and Robin was about to add something along the lines of 'I know, the crazy things you learn from PBS' when Marshall continued, "Barney told you how he feels about you!"

Her jaw dropped. And it didn't just do that willy nilly. It was normally a very secure jaw. "How the _hell_ does he do that?!" Robin shouted, setting her beer down heavily on the table. "Seriously, I am never having a veiled discussion around you ever again, dude." She recalled how he'd learned about the whole ambassador from Zaire's desk thing.

"Robin, come on," Marshall said with a dismissive snort but no explanation.

"Wait, wait," Lily practically bounced out of her seat in her exuberance to cut in. "Far more important than Marshall's creepy mind-reading powers is the fact that you," she pointed a finger squarely in Robin's face, "are not denying it."

Robin paled, knowing there was no way out of Lily's microscopic view once you were in it. "Crap," Robin muttered lowly, realizing the mistake she'd made.

"Oh my God!" Lily exclaimed, sounding exactly like her husband (yes, _that_ girlish, Robin thought). "He did! Barney totally told you that he's in love with you!"

"_What?!"_ Robin spat loudly, drawing some eyes from nearby bar patrons. But she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment because _what the hell did Lily just say?!_

Lily, for her part, seemed to realize her mistake and stammered, "Huh? Sorry, I didn't- couldn't hear your.. quest..."

"Applesauce!" Marshall interjected, grabbing his wife by the wrist and starting to step out of the booth.

But Robin was not about to be stunned into inaction this time. It had been bad enough with Barney kissing her and telling her she was so awesome and out of his league and her not being able to get a damn word out because she had absolutely no idea how it made her feel. This was intolerable. She bolted to her feet and practically leapt in the path between them and the door. "You," she pointed at them accusingly, "are not allowed to run off and have sex without explaining yourselves."

The couple seemed to be communicating telepathically for a minute. Then they resigned themselves to sinking back into the booth with heavy sighs. Robin remained standing, suddenly feeling so on edge she wasn't able to sit. She loomed over them, waiting. Hoping maybe this was a misunderstanding, but knowing in her gut that she'd heard them perfectly.

"I'm taking it he didn't use those words?" Marshall said, squeezing Lily's hand, as though he'd agreed to speak in her stead. She looked like she wanted to melt into the seat.

"No," Robin said, her voice low and somewhat threatening. "He definitely didn't. So please clear this up for me and tell me you're just assuming or inferring..." she was losing her nerve, her voice faltering into desperation near the end.

Marshall frowned. "Robin, why are you so freaked out about this?" She stared at him blankly, and he cleared his throat. "Okay, so it seems weird but really, Barney's not devoid of emotion. We all knew that already."

"I never said that," Robin slid stiffly into the booth across from them, feeling tension in every centimeter of her body. "But dude, there is a _big_ difference between having some feelings and, and-" she just waved her hand in a 'what you said' kind of gesture because she couldn't bring herself to say it.

"For God's sake," Lily said, throwing her hands up. "I swear, you two are the most emotionally stunted adults I have ever met. You're perfect for each other."

She sounded way too happy about that for it to seem like an insult. "Lily," Robin warned.

Lily ground her teeth and gripped Marshall's hand so hard his fingers started to go white. Seeing how hard she was trying to hold back whatever secrets she might have, Marshall quickly rubbed his wife's back and said, "Robin, Lily has done a really good job of keeping Barney's secrets for," he almost slipped himself, then just said, "A while. Give her a break."

"Okay, but the secret is out now so why can't you just tell me?" Robin countered. Though inside she was screaming at herself to stop asking so many questions. Maybe she could just ignore the l-word that Lily had let slip. It would certainly be a lot smarter. But she knew she couldn't. Pandora's box and all that.

"Look, Robin," Marshall stated gently, "Have you thought that maybe this is a conversation you should be having with Barney instead of us anyway?"

"No, Marshall," Robin replied flatly. "Because I'm not insane."

Lily snorted, "Oh, sweetie..."

"Not helping," Robin cut in. She fidgeted in her seat, trying to fend off Marshall's suggestion. The truth was, she couldn't even muster up a coherent sentence to say to Barney on the subject as it was. But at least up until now she'd pulled herself together by detaching, by observing carefully and dispassionately. If that was taken away, she was actually going to have to _react_.

"Come on, Robin," Marshall said, "You have to know it took a lot for Barney to say anything to you at all. Isn't it only fair that you're a little scared too?"

"I am not scared," Robin replied in a steely, threatening manner. "And Barney is fine."

"Says the person who was just suggesting that he was only acting normal because he knew you were watching him," Lily pointed out.

That was what she had insinuated, sure. It seemed logical. But Robin was really pissed off at logic right now, and that wasn't helping. Because logic was supposed to have insulated her from this exact sort of thing. From this panicked, confused feeling that had rendered her completely speechless at Barney's apartment a week earlier. "Okay, forget I said anything," Robin said, standing and grabbing her purse. "And I will forget you said anything, and we will all forget that any kind of words ever happened between anyone."

"Robin..." Lily began.

"It's seven o'clock, Lil. I've got to get to bed." Robin tried to play the sympathy card, and it must have worked. Probably not because they were concerned about her getting enough sleep. All Robin cared about right now was taking her sleeping pills fast enough to beat her racing mind into a dead slumber.

"All right," Lily said, letting out a dejected sigh. "But you can't avoid this forever."

All Robin could think as she bolted for the door was that Lily clearly overestimated how well she knew her friends.

*****

The next few days of observation were hell. Robin kept trying to remain detached, but it was becoming pretty clear that her impartial observer status had been severely compromised by three of the stupidest words ever put together.

_He loves me_.

They rang through her ears and, dammit, she could sense the truth of it. Every time his leg brushed hers in the booth. Every time their eyes met, however casually. Every time he grinned ear to ear at his own jokes. It had seemed normal before. But now, her heart switched between a weird fluttering and a deafening pounding and her thought process went something like- _he loves me. He loves me? That's a question. A question requires an answer. Shit, shit, shit- let's just drop it._

Yeah, her impartiality was compromised. And that was the frustrating thing. Before, she'd been doing a pretty good job of rationalizing Barney's confession as an admittedly awkward but probably harmless spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. Okay, so he thought she was incredibly awesome. That was understandable. After all they did get along really well. She loved how he brought out the most fun-loving and childish side of her sometimes. Kids didn't have commitments. They had fun. They impulsively kissed their cute male friends, then they got to forget about it and play tag.

That was how Barney was supposed to make her feel. That was the unspoken deal. But now thanks to him, and thanks to Lily and those _words_, Robin was second guessing everything. This time, though, it wasn't Barney she was observing.

Every time his leg brushed hers, and she got a tiny thrill of excitement.

Every time their eyes met, and she wanted to hold his gaze a little longer than she did.

Every time he grinned ear to ear, and she laughed a little too loudly.

What the hell was wrong with her? She may have had some inappropriate thoughts about her friend, but hey, it was hard to just ignore an obvious sexual chemistry. And yeah, she had gotten close to acting on it- especially at Ted's wedding- but that was different. It was different now that every time that familiar tingle ran through her body, it was accompanied by the _he loves me _bit.

So she'd taken to making flimsy excuses to leave the table, the bar, the apartment any time her mind started drifting in that direction. She hoped no one noticed. She hoped she was doing a good enough job of playing it cool. And damn if she wasn't determined to get through tonight without spazzing out for no good reason.

"Okay, you're up again," Marshall said, breaking into Robin's reverie.

Robin blinked as she looked up at her friends standing around with their Guitar Hero World Tour gear. Ted was on bass, Lily on the drums, Barney on guitar, and Marshall was offering the mic to her. It registered that they'd just finished a song. "Oh. Right," she said, standing and taking the mic from Marshall with less than the usual amount of focus.

"Just prepare to be thoroughly owned, Marshall," Barney warned, shifting the plastic guitar as if he were taking this very seriously. Which, actually, he probably was.

Marshall scoffed as he sat down and put his arms out comfortably on the wide chair. "Dude, you're not scaring me. Even you are never going to beat my 90% high score. And, I think it's fair to say no one will beat Ted's 30% low score, either."

"Hey," Ted objected, in his only mildly serious tone, "The vocal is hard in this game. But I'd like to see you rock this bad boy." He lifted the guitar serving as his bass controller.

"The point is," Lily said sweetly, "My husband kicks all of your asses." She smiled at him and they blew each other kisses. Robin only groaned inwardly, but Barney let his objection be known.

"Okay, that's enough from the lovebirds back there, Donnie and Marie," Barney objected.

"Dude, you know they're brother and sister, right?" Ted said, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

Barney quirked one eyebrow. "Huh," he mused, staring upward. "That makes this one series in my movie collection a lot more disturbing than hot all of a sudden."

"Gross," Lily said flatly.

Barney just shrugged it off, which somehow made Robin grin. "My point was, Robin is a former professional. Marshall doesn't stand a chance. Prepare to be taken down a peg, my friend," Barney declared, setting his feet into what Robin assumed was his idea of a 'rocker' guitar stance. She thought it was kind of adorable. She'd thought that before, before the taste of his lips on hers and those words Lily had passed along started haunting her. It used to be harmless to think that about her friend. Now it was anything but.

"Just start the song already!" Robin snapped, and she didn't have to look at them to know they were all studying her for different reasons.

Ted was first player, so he quietly selected the song and hit start. She caught a glance of his knowing gaze before shifting her weight and turning back to the TV. Whatever they all thought they were going to figure out about the way she was acting, they were going to be sorely disappointed. Robin held the trump card, which was the knowledge that she didn't have a clue what she was thinking at any given moment.

The group started to focus on the screen as the opening notes of Pat Benatar's "Heartbreaker" scrolled up the screen. Barney was instantly focused, biting his lip subconsciously as he his fingers flew to hit every button.

As soon as the lyrics started, Robin really hated Ted. Because the first thing she sang was "_Your love is like a tidal wave..._" and from there it just got worse. It was bad enough being forced to even think anything relating to the l-word while standing next to Barney. But by the time she was attempting to enthusiastically belt her way through "_You're the right kind of sinner to release my inner fantasy_", Robin was convinced everyone must be staring at her expectantly, like they knew something she doesn't. So she refused to look at them. Except she stole a glance at Barney and he was just rocking out, completely in his own world. And that somehow made her mad, too, because how could he have just been acting so casual and normal since that earth-shattering confession?

Robin managed to make it through practically shouting "_You're a heartbreaker"_ in the first chorus, but as Barney's fingers moved furiously to punch out the interlude the words "_Your love has set my soul on fire_" hung on the screen like a sword over her head, waiting for her to cut the line. When it was her cue, Robin didn't even make a sound. She was too upset. No, pissed off. That was the right way to put it. Upset implied that something was getting to her emotionally.

After a whole verse without a singer, the game told them they'd failed the challenge and was asking if they'd like to try again.

"Aw, man," Barney whined theatrically, "And there's a totally awesome guitar solo later on in the song! Dammit, Robin, we can't have our lead singer getting stage fright!"

She glared at him and spat with more venom than she'd intended, "It's just a game, Barney."

The others were all looking at her now. Barney was finally looking at her, and she must have gotten something through to him because the 'game face' expression he always wore when taking something like this way too seriously was faltering. "You like this game."

"I'm twenty-seven years old and it's a Friday night!" Robin threw her hands up in the air before pushing past Barney and ignoring Marshall's concerned glance as she stomped past his chair.

"So where are you going?" Lily asked, looking over at her friend in concern and with what Robin thought might have been a bit of a reprimand.

Robin stopped long enough to reply. "I'm acting like a normal adult and I'm going to get dressed up and I'm going out. This," she gestured to her friends standing around in their work clothes and their _suits_, holding plastic video game controllers, "is pathetic. It was a really lame idea."

She knew that was a low blow. She knew this was Barney's idea. She knew if she didn't get out of his presence right now, she was going to start having an even more irrational freakout and Those Three Words were going to keep bouncing around her head and making her second guess everything she did.

Barney didn't say anything as she slammed the door to her room.


	14. Chapter 14

Barney let out a long sigh and sank into the couch as soon as Robin's door slammed closed. He took the guitar strap off his shoulder and just barely stopped himself from throwing the controller into the wall. "What did I do wrong?" he asked no one in particular, exasperated.

"Nothing, buddy," Marshall said sympathetically, leaning forward.

"I think that song kind of hit some nerves is all," Lily said, scooting her drum set away from the couch where she and Barney were sitting. She shot Ted an accusatory look.

"Hey, I just picked one randomly," Ted said, holding his hands up as he set his guitar controller aside and perched himself on the arm of the couch. Barney couldn't help but notice how his friends had encircled him, like maybe he needed some padding around him to keep from breaking.

"Honestly, I think it's just Robin reading into it herself," Marshall ventured cautiously. "I mean, she's obviously freaking out trying to figure out how she feels about... this stuff."

Barney groaned miserably. "So all I have to do is be within 100 yards of her to make her start babbling irrationally. What the hell is wrong with that woman?" He saw the others all exchange '_pot calling the kettle black'_ looks. "Oh no," he said, half-laughing as he held up a hand. "Dude, I have _never _been that crazy around her. B-man plays it cool."

"Oh sweetie," Lily said, patting him on the knee, "You've been a lot worse. You've just been lucky that Robin's the most oblivious woman on the planet."

He looked over at her. "Have I? Because maybe it would have been a lot better if she'd just realized it right off the bat and put me out of my misery then and there." Barney closed his eyes and rubbed them with the palms of his hands. "I don't get it. She didn't say anything for a week then the last few days she's all over the place."

"Uh," Marshall cleared his throat. "Lily and I... we might have, ah, accidentally said something to her that freaked her out. You know, a little bit."

Barney opened his eyes, then squinted them. "What?"

"Well, I kind of thought from the way that Robin was talking about your confession that you'd used," Lily's voice dipped, "the l-word."

Barney could only gape at Lily first, then at Marshall, then over at Ted who was remaining tight-lipped and distant, then back to Lily again. "Lily!" Barney exclaimed finally, his throat tight and his voice high. "Of course I didn't! You think I wanted to Mosby her?"

"Huh?" Ted asked, but Barney ignored it. This wasn't the time to have to explain another one of their inside jokes about Ted's gushiness.

"No wonder she's freaking out," Barney said, "She probably thinks I want to drag her off to the suburbs and get her pregnant immediately." He shuddered all the way down to his core at the thought. Sure, he'd been thinking more seriously about the future lately. But it was also called 'the future' for a reason, namely that it was eternally _not now_ and always changing.

"I don't think so," Marshall countered. "I seriously don't think this is about you. I mean, she spent a whole week studying you to try to find the signs of wave-particle interaction."

"Which could lead to time travel," Lily piped in with a nod and grin to her husband.

Barney's brow furrowed as he tried to interpret what the hell they were saying. "Is this from one of Ted's science lessons?" he asked suspiciously.

"I have no idea what they're talking about," Ted replied with a shake of his head.

"I think what Marshall means is that Robin was just trying to make it all about you. She just wanted to observe everything," Lily explained, then shrugged. "Now she's actually having to think about how this makes her feel, and you of all people should know that can be scary. Remember how long it took her to realize she had feelings for Ted?"

Gesturing towards Ted, Barney said, "But she didn't know Ted. So obviously it took her a while, but this is different. She's known me for four years. She's had plenty of time to make up her mind about me."

"Maybe," Lily said, "but maybe this is the first chance she's had to start thinking about you that way. She needed a wake-up call, that's all."

Barney tried not to take that pointed look of hers too much to heart. The one that seemed to say, underneath it all, _you guys are so perfect for each other_. Because that was the last thing he wanted to keep thinking. Because it didn't matter how perfect Lily or Marshall or Barney himself thought they were for each other, if Robin didn't think so, it was self-destructive.

He closed his eyes and imagined the feel of cold water running over his lids and down his face. He recalled the sensation because with that memory he was able to recall the resolutions he'd made to himself. When Barney opened his eyes, his face was set like stone. "Well I've had a wake-up call, too," he said in a low, sad voice. "I've had a lot of them lately. And I think I should probably answer them." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I've spent 10 days and 23 hours putting this off, giving it whatever tiny chance it had to succeed, putting all my effort into acting normal. I'm just... done. I can't do it anymore." Before he could talk himself down, Barney stood up.

"Where are you going?" Ted asked.

"Home," Barney said, heading over to the kitchen table to grab his jacket.

"But we're right in the middle of a concert tour," Marshall said, sounding genuinely bummed.

It took much of his remaining strength not to yell what was on his mind. Instead, Barney ground out curtly, "I have to get out of here. I have to leave before she comes out of her room and I have to see her again. You guys don't get it. I can't do this anymore. This," he waved around the room, "coming over to her apartment, going to her bar. It's bad enough thinking about her every second of the day, but actually being here...it's driving me crazy. It's gotten me in a kind of trouble I'm sick of getting myself into." Instead of yelling, at this point Barney's voice was strained with a pain he never intended to let out. But he'd reached and gone beyond his breaking point. He was running on fumes and he'd known for a while now that he was going to have to do this unless Robin miraculously... but she didn't.

"So wait, what are you saying?" Ted asked him quietly, disbelieving.

Barney let his arms drop lifelessly to his sides. "I can't be friends with her anymore." All three of them were completely silent. Barney wouldn't have been able to believe it himself if he hadn't gone through the last month. He laughed, entirely without humor, "We didn't even date and she still wins the breakup. She gets the apartment, she gets the bar..."

"B-but," Lily said in a small voice, "You've been going to MacLaren's longer than any of us."

"Things change," Barney said with a lifeless shrug, looking at the floor. He forced his gaze back up to look around at his friends. "Look, you guys are great. You're like... you're my family. I couldn't get along without you. So if you could, you know... come over sometimes..." he trailed off, realizing it was a big inconvenience. He lived about 20 minutes away, but more importantly his place just didn't feel right as a place to hang out, still, he hoped-

"Of course," Marshall cut in. "Dude, you don't even have to ask that. Of course we're still gonna hang out with you. You mean as much to us as we do to you."

Barney gave his friend a grateful smile. "Thanks, bro," was all he could manage to say that wasn't too embarrassing.

"And we've still got conference calls at work," Marshall added, which perked Barney up a little. He nodded.

"Barney," Lily said slowly, "I'm not sure this is a great idea. I really think Robin just needs some time to sort things out." She held up a hand before he could object. "But if you need to get some space for a while, we get it." She probably realized there wasn't really any way to stop Barney once he set his mind to something, anyway... at least, he didn't use to think so. Robin had proven an exception.

Wiping a hand across his suddenly sweaty forehead, Barney said. "Okay, yeah. Thanks guys. But I've got to go." His eyes darted to Robin's bedroom door, praying she was taking a while to get ready and that he could still sneak out of here.

"You're not going to say anything to her," Ted stated matter-of-factly, maybe even a little angrily.

Barney looked at him helplessly. "I can't."

"Do you want us to?" Marshall asked.

It was already starting to feel like he was being pulled to sit back down. Like this place, her presence had Barney caught up like a tractor beam. Like he wouldn't break free unless he gunned it right now. He took a step backward to the door, his speech faltering, becoming frantic. "I don't care. Whatever. Just- I have to-" he turned around and grabbed the door handle tightly, practically ripping it open.

He paused in the hallway, looking back at his friends with a conciliatory grin he didn't feel at all. "That game's made for four people anyway," he said. It took all his remaining will to close the door behind himself and slowly start dragging his feet down the stairs.

*****

When Robin stepped out of her room, straightening the dress she'd put on, the group was sitting around very quietly. And, she noticed instantly, it was missing a certainly lively member. "Where's Barney?" she asked casually, although lately any question she had pertaining to him felt like one piece of a larger puzzle she was constructing.

The other three exchanged looks that were much too solemn for Robin's taste. "He left," Marshall said.

Robin rolled her eyes. "What, just because I didn't want to play that stupid game? God, what is he, 12?"

No one even cracked a smile at that. There was an uncomfortable silence and Robin was beginning to feel like the mood in the room was a little heavier than she had first judged it to be. Finally, Ted spoke up, quietly. "He said he doesn't feel like he can hang out over here anymore. Or at MacLarens."

"Wait, what?" Robin asked. "That's ridiculous! What, like at all? Just like that?" _And without telling me, of all people?_ she thought, but was glad she had the presence of mind not to say it. She looked to Lily for an answer, because her best friend had a way of giving things to people straight.

"That's what he said," Lily admitted. "I think he doesn't want to make you feel like he's running you out of your own apartment."

"When did he leave?"

"Just now," Marshall said, sounding dejected. Which obviously he would be. Where the hell did Barney get off just suddenly ditching all of them like that? What kind of- why would he- how could he do that to her! To all of them.

Robin didn't wait to ask for an explanation. Instead she quickly exited and made her way down the steps at a clip pace, which was difficult in heels. Still, she managed to make it out the front door in record time. Barney was standing next to a cab, about to get in. "Hey!" she shouted, and he looked up sharply at her. His expression was almost the one he wore when he knew he was about to get slapped. Which he might. "What are you doing?"

"Going home," Barney replied with a sigh. He opened the cab door and started to put one foot inside. Robin couldn't believe he was doing all of this so casually.

"Hey," Robin grabbed his shoulder, which caused him to flinch. He bit his lip as he took his foot out of the cab and closed the door behind him. Barney tried staring her down defiantly for a second, then caved with a full-bodied sigh. He waved the driver away and took a step away from Robin. "You were really just going to sneak off and never come back? Like some runaway kid?"

"They told you," Barney replied, figuring it out. Sucking his lips against his teeth, he looked away from her for a moment before he spoke again. "Okay, so? Why are you here?" the look he gave her was mostly resigned, but she could read a little bit of hesitant expectancy there. Like a remnant of something that couldn't be crushed.

That look made her falter. It had been a knee-jerk reaction to run after him. Because of course it was a stupid thing for him to do. To suddenly decide to stop hanging out at the place he'd gone every night for over 8 years? But the way he was looking at her now, it was like he was asking her for something. Something she knew she wasn't in a place to give. "I... this is stupid, Barney! After we put all this effort into being better friends to you, now you're just going to throw that away?"

Now all the hopefulness drained from his expression, leaving a bloodless stony face. "Did you really come down here just to tell me how stupid I'm being? To throw salt in the wound?" He shook his head. "Why? _Why_ would you do this to me, Robin? Don't I- doesn't my friendship at least mean something to you?"

"Says the guy who decided to stop hanging out with me and who didn't even have the decency to tell me about it?" Robin countered, her voice raising and beginning to echo off the brownstones around them. "This is the worst temper tantrum I have ever seen."

"I didn't just decide this," he said with a shake of his head. "I've been thinking about it for a while. But like an idiot I've been giving you chances to give me an answer. I thought maybe you just needed time. But you must just be enjoying torturing me." His voice was stretched and strained by its volume and intensity. She could have sworn she saw a blood vessel break in his forehead, too. "You can't ask me to come back just so you can spend more time making up your mind and ripping my heart out."

Robin made a concerted effort to lower her voice. "Oh, and I'm sure you made up your mind about your feelings so quickly?"

She didn't mean to ask that. Because it made him contemplative, and she immediately realized her mistake. That she just opened up the _how long_ question to him. The question she'd been avoiding with such deft mental acrobatics because ultimately it might lead to how she was complicit in this whole thing. Barney shifted his weight, putting his hands on his hips as he ground his jaw around a little, considering. Robin could tell he was working up to his answer. She couldn't very well just tell him to drop it now.

"No," he finally conceded, beginning to pace back and forth on the sidewalk, clearly full of excess nerves. "I didn't just... it took a long time. You really want to know?" Barney stopped pacing, stared at her. And no, she really _didn't_ want to know, but it seemed like a rhetorical question. All Robin could do was stand stock still as Barney launched into his response.

"Years," he said, and it made her stomach drop. She wanted him to stop so badly, but this was clearly something he had to say and was going to at this point. "I was attracted to you from the start, and you even admitted we would have been perfect together." She blinked, recalling clearly the incident he was talking about. She'd never even spoken of it to anyone, but it had come to mind on more than one occasion. Just because it had been so weird. "But there was Ted. And that's fine, it wasn't a big deal. I got to realize how cool you were as a friend. And, okay, so sue me if I still thought about hooking up with you sometimes."

There was the tiniest ghost of a smile on his lips. It only lasted for a minute, though, before Barney grew very quiet. "Then when it did happen, it wasn't at all the way I'd thought. We were such good friends, it was just... I cared about you."

Robin folded her arms across her chest, wanting to close herself off. Because they'd agreed not to talk about that night, and so far they hadn't. Not even when Barney was laid up in the hospital after months away from his friends. "Barney..." she started, a gentle warning.

He didn't seem to care, and instead stepped closer to her, like he wasn't going to let her escape this. It made the air around them feel thick. "I sure as hell didn't expect to have all these feelings and realizations when I woke up in your bed," he said lowly.

That hit home. That made it real, confirmed something Robin hadn't even allowed herself to consciously suspect. She closed her eyes for a moment, and yep, the world inside her head was definitely spinning. "But so you're saying," she tried to grab onto something coherent she could say so that her thoughts wouldn't drift into the dangerous territory they were threatening to, "that it took you a year then to figure it out and finally tell me you had feelings?"

Barney looked at her strangely. "No Robin," he said plainly, "I told you, I knew right then. It was like this twisting in my stomach. That was maybe the only good thing about not seeing you guys for a while after that, being able to ignore it for a while. But after the bus accident..." he sighed, and she felt her own stomach churning. Though for totally different reasons. "It only took me that long to say anything because... well, for a lot of reasons. But when you know you just _know_." He gave her a pointed, questioning look. The one he'd avoided giving her the last 11 days, which she'd kind of wanted him to because it would have at least made the situation more real. Now she desperately longed for the eerie normalcy of before.

She swallowed. "Still, you've had a long time to think." If she could have literally peddled backwards away from him, she would have. She swore he was sucking all the oxygen out of the air around them with that _look_.

"But it's not like that was day one," he pointed out. "There was already history there. Attraction, friendship... and you've had just as many years to figure out how you feel about me as I have to figure out how I feel about you." He sighed, and gave her a pleading stare. "And no, of course I never expected it to lead to this. But it did. And can you honestly tell me that it _never _crossed your mind? The idea that there might be- not even after we-" he trailed off, and the look he gave her was more sad than angry.

Robin scoffed. She couldn't help it. "Oh come _on_. This is you, Barney. Chronically allergic to relationships. Was I just supposed to assume that you woke up one morning and suddenly you changed your whole outlook on life just because we had sex? It wasn't that big of a deal!" her voice got a lot louder than she's expected it to. Almost like she was trying to make sure the whole neighborhood was clear on this point.

"I _know_!" Barney's tone started to match hers. "I know it wasn't a big deal to you. But I cannot for the life of me figure out how. How could you just brush it off like that?"

She gaped at him. How could he ask her that? Him, of all people? "You tell me, Barney," Robin replied with a sarcastic bite to her voice, "You're the expert at tossing out bimbos and never thinking about them again."

She didn't expect that to phase him. Barney Stinson was the first person who would tell you what a man whore Barney Stinson was. It was like a core assumption for the way the group related to him. Wasn't it? So why did he look like he'd just been punched in the gut (and not in a hot way)? "So," he said finally, licking his dry lips, "to you our friendship is about as meaningful as my relationships with girls I know for a few hours."

"That's not what I meant," she insisted. But she knows it sure as hell came out that way. And even as unflappable as Robin liked to think Barney was, she could tell that one really hurt. But how could she explain herself without _explaining herself_? This was exactly why she'd avoided discussing that night with anyone, even herself.

"Well that's how you acted," he said, his eyes dipping to the sidewalk as he ran a hand over his forehead in exasperation. "I mean, I let it go because I knew you were embarrassed, but Jesus." In the yellow illumination of the streetlight, Robin could have sworn she saw Barney's face reddening with a shame he supposedly did not posses. She couldn't bring herself to speak, didn't know what to say. It seemed like ages before Barney finally forced his eyes up to meet hers. The sudden lifelessness there shocked her. "This is exactly why I can't be friends with you anymore."

The idea of that, the implications of something that big happening because of this situation, worried the hell out of Robin. Because it meant this was really, truly serious. And because she couldn't imagine MacLaren's without him. "Don't you think that's an extreme reaction?"

"Yeah. Well, so is losing tens of thousands of dollars and winding up in jail in Jersey," he said. "I can't keep doing that." It stung to hear him link her to that. Because it was hard enough seeing Barney losing it these last few weeks. But the idea that there was something strong enough there to drive him to that was... uncomfortable, to say the least. "Can you please," he continued, looking up at her tentatively, hands in his pockets, almost looking like a hurt kid. "Please just do me a favor, though and just... give me a straight answer."

"Okay," Robin conceded cautiously, because she guessed it was the least she could do. "To what?"

Barney just stared. "Come on. I've been hanging in limbo for the last 11 days waiting for you to just give me an answer. And I've been really patient because I thought maybe you were..." he shook his head. "Doesn't matter. But I feel like if anything that ever happened between us the last four years meant anything to you, the least you could do was to not leave me hanging. I know what you're gonna say but... I have to hear it from you."

"Hold on," Robin said firmly, feeling sharply annoyed all of a sudden. A little voice in the back of her mind asked her snidely if that was the best she could do for deflection. "You never asked me anything. It was all 'I have feelings for you, I know it won't go anywhere, have a nice night'." And what would she have said if he had asked... whatever it was he'd assumed he'd asked?

His eyes narrowed, a bit of the hard edge sneaking back in. "You know exactly what I'm asking you." He shifted, and she could see the pain underneath his thin expression. Had that been there all week? Surely not. She'd been watching him carefully, after all. How could she have missed that? This was really eating at him. Was one stupid question enough to drive someone that crazy?

And still, still she was right. He hadn't asked her anything. How could he expect her to come up with some monumental response to a question she didn't even know she was supposed to answer. Even now, he still hadn't said it in so many words. It wasn't fair just to assume she knew what he meant. Besides, her emotional self-preservation was kicking into overdrive. This gave her an excuse to be stubborn. Yet the look behind his eyes was beyond desperate. Robin knew she could put him out of his misery, give him a response. But what if she just wound up saying something she didn't mean? Or worse, something she did?

The air between them seemed to crackle like it would before a lightning strike. Barney's piercing stare was not letting up. She had to end it. But not the way he wanted. It came down to either her pride or his feelings. Deep down, she knew what always won that battle.

Licking her lips, Robin said stoically, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Barney immediately stepped back away from her. His shoulders slouched briefly, then synched up again. The look in his eyes went from determined to hurt to furious in less than a second. Robin immediately felt even worse, but what could she do? A nasty part of her wondered if he was so in love with everything about her, wouldn't he just love this, too? Wasn't this just 'so Robin'?

But he didn't. Not even a little. Instead, he breathed heavily through his nose and began pacing again, balling his fists. Like he might explode. Or implode, maybe. She stood stock still. Finally, he stopped in front of her, his face surprisingly close to hers so that she could feel his hot breath on her cheek as he practically spat at her, "You know, Robin, I never expected you to say yes. But I thought you'd at least have the decency to say no."

If she hadn't known better, she'd have thought she heard the constricted sound of deflected tears in his voice before Barney turned on his heel and stomped off down the sidewalk. He kicked a stray glass bottle and it shattered against a wall. The breaking sound echoed in Robin's ears. She ran back up the stairs into the apartment before the shards could settle all the way into her mind.


	15. Chapter 15

It had been five days. Five days since Barney had stormed off down the sidewalk, not daring to look back at Robin. Since then he hadn't seen her, spoken to her, or even said her name out loud. Of course, it had run through his head every ten seconds or so, but that he couldn't control. There were few things he felt truly in control of anymore, but the ability to avoid speaking her name was one of them. And thank God his friends had made that easy on him.

"Hey, buddy," Marshall said as he stepped into Barney's office. "You getting ready to take off?"

Barney glanced up from the pile of paperwork on his desk and eyed the clock above the door. He blinked. How was it five already? He'd hardly gotten through any of the work he was supposed to for the day. "Shit," Barney muttered, standing up and flicking his computer off. "Yeah, thanks for reminding me. Wouldn't have been a great idea to be late..." He slid his suit-jacket on.

Marshall shifted his weight, hands in his pockets, looking confused. "Oh, you're going somewhere?"

He must have forgotten. Or, actually, Barney might not have told him. He cringed inwardly, but swallowed his pride enough to explain with a shudder, "Jersey. Community service starts today."

A light seemed to go off in Marshall's head. "Right, that... hey, but you stayed out of jail. And no Jersey doesn't count, despite what Ted says."

Barney smiled a little at that. He didn't quite feel it deep down and it didn't reach his eyes, but he also was starting to realize he didn't have to pretend it did. His friends weren't making him do that. They were just letting him feel however he felt, day to day, moment to moment. But more importantly, they were _there_. Marshall and Lily and even Ted, despite the fact that Barney suspected Ted was kind of on Robin's side. They'd all hung out with him despite the fact that he couldn't go to MacLaren's or Ted's apartment. "Yeah, well," Barney said, "we'll see about that."

"Too bad it starts today," Marshall said. "I was gonna see if you wanted to come over to try one of Lily's special meals."

"Didn't know you were into sharing your wife like that," Barney said with a raise of an eyebrow.

"Not a euphemism," Marshall replied flatly.

"That's the beauty of euphemisms, Marshall," Barney said in a declaratory tone he usually used when announcing a new theory. "All it takes is for one person to _think _you mean something else. By definition, if someone thinks something's a euphemism, it is." This time the grin did reach Barney's eyes, even if only for a split second.

Marshall just shook his head. "Those sensitivity training sessions are obviously paying off," he intoned sarcastically.

Barney rolled his eyes as he sorted the papers he needed to take home from the ones he had to lock away in the safe under his desk before he left. "Don't get me started, dude. It's like, I paid the settlement and I know I was a jackass. But come on, making us point out what words might be considered sexual in tone? Of course I know what words might come off as sexual - how do they think I chose them so well?"

Marshall wisely chose not to respond to the remark. Instead, he just asked, "Anyway, you want to stop by our place later, or...?"

Barney let out a sigh and set his papers down for a moment. In spite of his genuine desire to make jokes at the most inappropriate times, he was still acutely aware of the heavy burden weighing him down at all times. The fact that Marshall wasn't forcing him to choose one or the other was incredibly appreciated. But still, sometimes the pressure of knowing he was being carefully watched out for was enough to make Barney antsy. He wasn't used to it. "I appreciate the offer but I think I'm just gonna go home, you know?" He hoped he wouldn't have to explain himself. Wouldn't have to explain that, in spite of not having seen her in five days, she was still all he was thinking about. That tonight he just needed to be alone to think some more, even if that was probably a little unhealthy.

"Understood, dude," Marshall said in a tone that was somewhere between sympathetic and casual. It was enough to let Barney know he got it. "Maybe you can take a raincheck."

"Only," Barney said, holding up an index finger, "if I can instead cash in that raincheck with another viewing of _Star Trek_, but this time we wear our Han and Chewie costumes. See if we can get some nerd panties in a twist." His expression was far too serious for the topic at hand. For most people.

But Marshall, bless him, took this every bit as seriously as his friend. "_Yes_," he replied emphatically. "I haven't gotten in a good fight with a Trekkie in like ten years. I mean, the movie's awesome, stop complaining about continuity! And my week won't be complete until I see a lightsabre verses phaser battle _in a theatre_."

"Awesome," Barney said with a nod, "we are totally doing that then." There was a pause, a lull, and Barney's mood shifted quickly back to sober. Which it seemed to be doing a lot of lately. Every time his mouth wasn't moving, really, and even sometimes when it was. Because that left him to think, and there was only one thing really on his mind.

Marshall seemed to understand. Barney wasn't sure how, but maybe it was some kind of sixth sense that had rubbed off on him from Lily. "If you change your mind about tonight, give me a call. You know, just to talk. Or not talk. Whatever."

Barney shifted. He knew he wasn't going to want to talk. He hadn't felt like talking since he poured what remained of his soul out at Robin's feet five days ago. There was simply nothing left for him to say. But at least Marshall gave him the option. "Thanks, dude," Barney said, eyeing Marshall seriously without letting his tone become overly sentimental. Had to protect what little dignity he had left. "For, you know..." there was still the ghost of that other time hanging in the air. Of feeling shunned on top of the confusion brought on by Barney's sudden case of feelings. And this time was different. At least the part about his friends was.

"Hey," Marshall said with a shrug, "bros before hos. It's article one, dude."

Barney gave a small smile. "Right," he said. He couldn't get her out of his mind. He couldn't stop wondering what she really thought about him, if she thought about him at all. But at least he knew that his bros had his back this time. That he didn't have to get clobbered by a bus before they realized he was in pain. "See you later, bro."

Marshall recognized his cue and gave a casual head-nod as he stepped back out of the office. "Okay," he said, "just remember I'm holding you to this Han and Chewie thing."

Barney nodded back. As he watched his friend walk around the corner towards the elevator, he could feel his strength of will disappearing once again. He sighed. Five days, that was all it had been since he'd seen her. And in truth, not being around her was the only way Barney was possibly going to retain any of his sanity. He knew it, his friends knew it. The ball was entirely in her court. The trouble was, she had no interest in playing.

*****

It had been five days. Five days since Robin had watched Barney break, watched him go and not done anything about it. Since then she'd heard snatches of how he was doing from Marshall, Lily, and Ted. But always oblique, accidental references. She never dared actually ask them about him directly. But she knew he wasn't doing great. Not because of what they said, but because of the way he'd looked, sounded, and felt during that last argument out on the sidewalk. He was broken. That much she didn't need to hear from anyone else.

And that was what really bothered Robin. Not so much the fact of his feelings for her, but the knowledge of just how much all of this was tearing him apart. Which was weird, because really, shouldn't she have been more freaked out by him than concerned for him?

"Robin," Ted said, nudging her back to the present. She was sitting on the floor next to the coffee table, across from Lily and Marshall. "Your turn," Ted said, nodding his head towards the multi-colored Truth or Dare Jenga tower tilting precariously to one side.

"Okay, I'm going, chill out!" she snapped, causing her three friends to give her quizzical looks. Okay, so maybe that was an overreaction. But she had been on edge all week, feeling like she was being poked incessantly in the side all the time by an invisible force. It was really getting annoying. Why couldn't the universe just leave her alone?

Robin let out a sigh and tried to clear her mind, calm her nerves as she reached up to slip out a center block. This game was all about self-control. And she was determined to show just how totally in control of her body and mind she was. Biting her lip, Robin slowly removed the block, sliding it out without so much as a tremble. Grinning, she held the piece up triumphantly. "These hands?" she gloated, "Steady as a sniper's."

"I didn't realize an increased ability to violently blow away an unsuspecting target was something to be proud of," Ted intoned with that voice he always got when admonishing Robin for her love of guns.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Just read the block already!" she exclaimed, cutting off the familiar gun debate before it could start.

Robin gave Ted a glare for good measure before turning her attention to the block in her hand. She read, "'Describe the first time you went skinny dipping.'"

"Well that's not a great question," Marshall commented. "What if someone's never been skinny dipping?"

Lily's eyes widened, "You're never been skinny dipping?! How did I not know this?"

"W-what!" Marshall scoffed. "Who said- now why would you assume..." he looked around at the others, who were now all regarding him suspiciously. " Okay! So maybe some people were a little self-conscious as kids and really hated summer camp and don't want to talk about it." He folded his arms across his chest, and Robin couldn't help but smirk.

"Aww, baby," Lily said, rubbing his arm. He looked down at her sympathetic expression. "Don't worry, you have nothing to be self-conscious about."

"Thanks baby," Marshall said sincerely.

Still smiling, Lily added, "Which is why we are totally going skinny dipping later this week." Ted and Robin both let out small, goading 'oooh' sounds.

Marshall's eyes flicked with panic, but he clearly knew his wife enough to know she wouldn't back down. He didn't even try to argue, instead just hanging his head and muttering, "Crap." Robin hid her smile at the couple's antics behind her beer bottle. She wouldn't call it 'cute' (gross). But it was definitely... comfortable. The kind of give and take two people should have. The kind of give and take that Robin had with-

Thankfully, before her mind could drag her into dangerous territory, Ted interjected, "Let's not lose sight of the issue at hand here." He raised an eyebrow at Robin. "Spill, Scherbatsky."

Something about the way he used her last name made her guts twitch. Showing no sign, she sighed and said, "Fine. I was 17, and my boyfriend Simon convinced me to go one night while we were at the beach film-" Robin practically locked her jaw shut mid-sentence. Shit. Why had she mentioned the video?

Lily, ever perceptive, narrowed her eyes. "At the beach... filming something?" she probed.

"Nothing," Robin replied curtly, her cheeks starting to redden. Unfortunately, her friends naturally took that to mean this was a juicy story. They had no idea that it had nothing to do with Simon, but instead stemmed from a very different memory attached to that video. Even after everything, Barney had never so much as breathed a word about _Sandcastles_. And not, she knew, just to protect the dignity of teenage Robin, but grown-up Robin as well. And ever since then, any time the song got stuck in her head, as it sometimes did, Robin panicked a little from the flood of memories and the nagging questions those memories posed.

"So there is something," Ted said in a teasing voice. "If there's video evidence of something here, I'm going to have to see it."

"Just forget about it!" Robin shouted, surprising everyone, including herself, with her intensity. The room grew quiet for a minute.

"Sorry," Ted said finally, reaching out silently to pull out a block from the Jenga tower. The tension in the air must have thrown him, because before he'd even halfway removed the piece, the tower came tumbling down with a loud clatter. "Dammit!" he whined.

"Ted!" Lily exclaimed. "That puts Marshall in the lead for least number of losses. Aren't you supposed to understand structural design or something?"

"I don't think Jenga really counts," Ted countered.

"Whatever excuse you need to make to save face, dude," Marshall said. Robin groaned inwardly as Marshall started picking up the pieces with a glowing smile on his face. "Face it. You just can't beat the king of games."

Lily snorted, "Whatever. Barney always beats you at this game."

Marshall's face fell into a grimace as he stared off into space, as if looking at an invisible adversary. "Freaking magician's hands," he spat out.

Robin felt that tugging... well, she wouldn't call it guilt. Wouldn't call it what it was. Any mention of Barney the last five days was a reminder of the look in his eyes just before he'd turned and stomped off into the night. She'd tried to convince herself he was just being childish. Which he was, but still, there was something much more grown up about the pain that had been evident in his expression. And there it was again, that concern for him that overrode her frustrations. That desire to know where he was, if he was doing okay, that she hadn't given into until now. But five days was long enough, right? She could be casual about this. She gave it her best shot. "Hey, how is Barney anyway?"

The others exchanged long glances, and Robin tried not to physically squirm. Instead, she cooly sipped from her beer bottle while the others silently decided how to answer that. Finally, Ted replied cautiously, "He's okay."

"Good," Robin said, perhaps a bit too quickly. There was another silence as she picked up a few Jenga pieces from the ground.

Suddenly, Marshall blurted out, "That's a lie."

"Honey..." Lily cautioned.

"I'm sorry, but it's true," Marshall stared straight at Robin, which made her freeze up. "Look, I don't know exactly what you said to him that night, but it really got to him. And sure, he has his ups and downs, but he's never going to completely get over this until you just give him a straight answer."

Robin's jaw nearly dropped open. "Okay, I don't know what he told you, but he _never asked me anything!_" she didn't know why, but this seemed like a very important point to her. Something she was in the right about, even if it was just a technicality.

Unfortunately, her friends saw right through that defense. Lily gave her a pained look. "Robin, you know what he means. He just wants to know if you have any feelings for him. If you'll give him a chance. If you don't want to hurt his feelings, trust me, it would be better to just put the poor guy out of his misery than to never give him an answer. You're killing him."

Robin bit down on the edge of the glass bottle, chewing nervously. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. Because it was one thing her friends were absolutely right about. Even if they didn't know what was going on in her head, Barney had made it abundantly clear to everyone what was going on in his. And of course Robin knew she was responsible. "I just-" she stammered, the edges of emotion creeping into her voice. All the things she'd said to him five nights ago were running through her brain, like a condemning chorus. "I know that, okay?"

"So why don't you do something about it?" Marshall asked, his voice getting very accusatory.

If there was one thing Robin hated, it was being put on the defensive. Because that inevitably led to having to explain herself. Which meant having to actually think about what she felt and how she acted, which was her least favorite topic in the history of topics. Her flight response automatically kicked in. Before she knew what she was doing, Robin was on her feet. "Okay, that's enough," she said curtly, starting to step away from the table.

"Where are you going?" Lily asked, half confusion, half frustration.

"I have a headache," Robin said pointedly. Which hadn't been true a minute ago, but certainly wasn't a lie now. She also felt slightly nauseous for reasons she'd rather not explain. "I really don't want to talk about this anymore." She had a feeling if she allowed her friends any more questions, her barely-there facade of composure was going to finally crumble.

"Robin-" Marshall started.

"Good night," she cut him off sternly before heading into her room and slamming the door behind her. _Now who's being childish? _a really annoying part of her brain wondered.

*****

Marshall and Lily had gone home soon after Robin's outburst, leaving Ted in a suddenly silent apartment. It was insane how quickly things in their group could go from jovial to explosive recently. Even without Barney here, he was still creating tension, Ted realized. Not that it was entirely his fault. Robin wasn't exactly the best at handling emotional situations. Ted knew that better than anyone, and could see right through her facades. The stress of all this talk of feelings was really getting to her.

After putting away the Jenga box, Ted walked over to Robin's door and knocked quietly. "Robin?" he asked tentatively. For a few seconds, he wondered if she were actually asleep already. It was only 8, but then she had to get up at 2. Maybe she wouldn't answer.

Then there came a muffled, "come in," from the other side of the door. Ted slowly turned the knob and entered to find Robin, still fully dressed, sitting on the ground folding clothes. Without looking up, she said, "Wasn't tired enough to go to sleep yet."

"Didn't think so," Ted said, cautiously moving further into the room, hands in pockets. "I just wanted to apologize about Marshall and Lily. They get it in their heads that two people should be together and their romantic sides get carried away. They kind of forget about how those people actually feel."

Robin stopped folding clothes and stared up at him, a small smile on her lips. "Is Ted Mosby really criticizing someone else for being too romantic?"

Ted could obviously see the irony of that, and let out a small chuckle as he shifted his weight. "Fair enough. But really, this year, the whole Stella thing..." he could see the light in Robin's eyes going out quickly. It was uncomfortable for anyone when he brought up Stella. Especially Robin, who'd been advising him not to marry her just hours before Stella left him. "I don't know," Ted said, looking down. "I guess I just realized there's a lot more to a relationship working than whether or not it seems like two people would work for each other."

Robin pulled herself up off the floor and settled heavily on the edge of the bed. "I know. When I think..." she stared at her hands, flicking at her nails nervously. "I mean, I _hate_ thinking about this stuff. Barney's apparently been doing it for a while but it's just so weird. Because yes, maybe I appreciate some of the compatibility things that Marshall and Lily seem to see. Like if I were thinking about the kind of guy I'd want to... be around right now, maybe some of those things would describe Barney. But then he's _Barney_."

Her voice was quiet and rambling, and Ted couldn't help but feel sympathy for her. He knew that tone of hers very well. He knew it was reserved for the rare times when she was really allowing her thought process to open up to someone. Ted appreciated the trust she was giving him, and gently sat beside her on the bed. "And it's totally okay if that's a deal-breaker. His history."

If he didn't know better, Ted would have sworn he saw Robin's eyes reddening before she looked away, focusing on the wall above her headboard for a while. When she looked back at him, she was more composed. "It's just... it's like my mind tells me the dirt about his history matters. It certainly makes really good ammunition anyway." She swallowed. "And I'm a pretty good shot." Her eyes closed in what could only be interpreted as pain.

Ted's brow furrowed. Carefully, he reached out a hand and rested it on her back. "Hey." His voice was serious, questioning. "What's wrong?"

"It's just..." Robin bit her lip and looked towards the ceiling. "I hate the fact that this is hurting him so much. Because I get that this was really hard for him to talk about, and then to have me..." She looked down again. "I said some things I didn't mean, just because I knew they would hurt him, to try to get him to... I don't know, be mad at me. To stop feeling..." She worked up the courage to look over at Ted. "He brought up that night, between us," she danced around the truth still, "and whether it had made me consider if there might be something more there. And instead of telling him the truth, I..." she licked her lips, her eyes starting to brim with tears. Ted was hardly breathing, not wanting to throw her off this rare moment of honesty. "I basically said that to me, he was like one of his bimbos." Robin let out a shaky breath. "He poured his heart out to me and all I could do was insult him. What's wrong with me?"

Ted held her gaze as long as he could, which was only a few seconds before he was overcome with a remnant wave of guilt himself. He looked at the floor. "I said some things to him I shouldn't have, too. Kind of along the same lines." He winced at the memory of the look on Barney's face when he'd accidentally called him a bastard. Definitely at the top of Ted's list of monumentally stupid things to say. "I apologized to him." Ted gained some resolve as he looked back at Robin. "But he even admitted that he knows he needs to make changes. It didn't make what I said right, but the spirit of it was true. And you have a lot more reason to be mad at him than me."

"Why?" Robin asked, sounding genuinely confused, which threw Ted. Surely she knew what he meant.

"I mean after the way he treated you. Using you like that, taking advantage of you." Somewhere in the back of Ted's mind's eye, he saw red for a second before regaining his cool. "It's not just something he does to other women. This was _you_. And regardless of what he felt later on, you were already his friend and he treated you like crap."

Robin was silent for a long while. Her mouth opened and closed a few times like she was considering and reconsidering what to say. Perhaps, Ted thought, he shouldn't have brought that up. After all, it was quite possibly an unpleasant memory for Robin. He was just about to backtrack and let her off the hook when she breathed out audibly. "Ted?" She said, her voice low and quiet as she avoided completely looking him in the eye. "What if that wasn't quite how it happened?"

He frowned at her. "What do you mean?" She seemed to be working up the courage just to look in the vicinity of his face. Her expression was one of extreme anxiousness, and some guilt. It threw him. What exactly was she trying to say? She'd never said a word about that night, and he'd always assumed it was because he had the story right, and that was a story she'd be embarrassed to relive. But the look in her eyes said otherwise. There really was more to this, he could tell.

"God," Robin said, standing up with a sigh of frustration and beginning to pace the floor, wringing her hands. "I should have told you this back then. Especially after you kicked him out of the group. But what I told you, about how I was vulnerable and had been drinking... that was kind of true but also an exaggeration."

Ted's brow furrowed. He wasn't sure where she was going with this. Or how much he wanted to hear about that night, frankly. But he could tell from her manner and paling face how much this was weighing on her. If he didn't listen to this now, she might never tell anyone. He bit he bullet. "Okay..." he said, urging her to go on.

Robin continued to pace back and forth, cracking her knuckles. After a few moments, she stopped and stared up at the ceiling while composing herself. Then, in what appeared to be a monumental effort, she looked Ted in the eye. "I came onto him." Ted wasn't sure exactly what to make of that. But Robin continued, "I asked him over to my place. I kissed him first, and I told him to stay..." she half-laughed. "Not that he took a lot of convincing. But still, he was only reciprocating, not initiating. It was a lot more my fault than I ever told anyone. And he just took the fall anyway." Now she looked down.

Which was a good thing, because it meant she missed the slack-jawed expression Ted was wearing for a moment. He quickly pulled it together, not wanting her to think he was calling slut or anything. "That's... I'm sorry, I just don't quite understand. It's surprising."

Now Robin finally looked at him again. "But why? I've been thinking about it and do I really have a right to pretend like I've had any more pure motives than him? I mean, I was going to sleep with him at your wedding. I was going to use him, _again_, even though I knew how much he'd paid for that last time. Even though I didn't know about his whole... feelings thing. And even though he would have gladly slept with me then, I was the one knocking on his door. And now," she sat down next to Ted again, running her hands through her hair, "he keeps acting like I'm out of his league or something. When the truth is, I really haven't treated him much better than he does his bimbos. Only its worse, because we're friends."

Ted was finally processing the shock to his body as the mix of utter surprise, guilt, and understanding that it was. All those things he'd said to Barney about the way he'd treated Robin. The way he'd treated Barney in the aftermath because he thought he knew the way Barney had treated Robin. "I feel like a jackass," he said, when he was finally able to form words again.

"You didn't know," Robin said, "You only knew what I told you. The stuff you said you'd told him recently, he knew it was kind of true. Because he does manipulate women and he uses them and he can be a real jerk. But," she drew a breath and held Ted's gaze, "he didn't do that to me. And I should have told everyone that a long time ago. I shouldn't have let you guys keep thinking he would do that to a friend."

"Okay. Okay," Ted said as he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. It was like a piece of a complex puzzle had fallen into place, and suddenly he realized the picture he'd been trying to form wasn't the actual puzzle. No wonder it was taking so much effort to piece together. It was enough to cause an instant headache, which went along nicely with the guilty pit growing in his stomach. "So you're saying you didn't fall for any of his tricks," Ted stated, trying to get it right.

"No," Robin said. "And honestly? Even though it helped me avoid ever thinking about or confronting what had really happened, it was a little insulting that you guys all thought I _would_ fall for his tricks. I'm not stupid. I make stupid choices, but I always know what I'm doing."

Ted studied her carefully, trying to pick up the subtext of what she was saying. Because he knew for every word Robin Scherbatsky said, there were probably ten words worth of thoughts and subconscious ramblings behind it. Unfortunately, she was still as inscrutable to him as ever. Anything you wanted to know from that woman, you just had to man up and ask. "I'm sorry about that," he apologized, genuinely feeling bad that he'd been thinking she was that gullible. Of course he should have known better. "But then, can I ask... if it wasn't one of Barney's intentional moves or tricks, and we can assume no one was holding a gun to your head because you would have taken it and shot them," he and Robin shared a small smile, "why _did_ you... invite him back to your place?" The words sounded strange to his own ears. So contrary to everything he'd told himself for a year.

Robin shifted on the edge of the bed, giving Ted a protected nervous look. It took him aback for a moment, because it was the exact same look Barney had whenever his case of feelings came up. Like he was going to be scorned and mocked if he said anything human. Finally, Robin said, "Honestly? He was being really... nice."

"Nice," Ted said, and it sounded a little more like a doubtful question than he'd intended it to.

"Yeah, I was embarrassingly emotional and," Robin shifted even more, "possibly a little teary." Ted's eyebrows went up, but he had the good sense not to say anything. He'd hardly ever seen Robin cry. She knew it. He didn't need to say it. "And Barney was surprisingly genuine. He was just being there for me, telling me I was the second most awesome person he knew."

"He said that?" Ted asked. All the way back then? He wouldn't be surprised to hear words like that about Robin out of Barney's mouth lately, but what exactly did it mean if he held Robin in such high regard even before he slept with her?

"Yeah, he did," Robin said, and Ted could have almost sworn her tone sounded a little fond. "And he meant it. And I invited him over at first because of something I had to show him that had to do with an inside joke," she said vaguely enough that Ted knew whatever it was, she wanted to keep it secret. "I figured he deserved to see it at that point. And while we were at my place, he just kept making me laugh more and more. He was genuinely making me feel good about myself. Which is the exact opposite of how he tries to make his conquests feel. This was different."

"So," Ted started carefully, "he was being a really good friend? Or," he added slowly, "do you think there was more to it?"

"God, Ted, I tried really hard _not_ to think about that at all," Robin replied with a shake of her head. "I tried to pretend it never crossed my mind. The truth is, sometimes it did and it was just so absurd and weird and uncomfortable. But the other night he told me..." she closed her eyes a moment. "He said that was when he started realizing he had feelings for me."

That was a very sobering statement. The nail in the coffin for Ted's nagging guilt about how he'd treated Barney a year earlier. He felt downright awful, and he could see some of the same guilt reflected in Robin's eyes. He put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "You know, I never considered it then either. It's Barney, you know? None of us saw it coming. Probably him least of all."

"I didn't mean to make you feel like a jerk, Ted. I just thought you should know the truth."

"I appreciate it. But," he hesitated. The words that had almost come flying out of his mouth weren't ones he wanted to let go of easily. He told himself he didn't want to upset Robin, make her clam up again. But the truth was, there was something in Ted that found this a little hard to stomach for personal reasons. This was Robin. And even with the bombshell revelation of how kindly Barney had treated her, there was still a tiny measure of protectiveness for her in Ted's mind. But he realized maybe there always would be. But he had to put that aside. It was, he figured, the least he could do for Barney at this point, after all the damage he'd done. So Ted forced himself to just say it. "But I think maybe I'm not the person you really want to be discussing this with."

Robin could only eye him for a moment before breaking his gaze to look at the wall. "Maybe," was all she said, but he knew that meant she'd been thinking about this herself.

"Look, Robin," he got her to look at him again. "I'm not saying you have to return his feelings. I don't know how you feel about him. You're the only one who knows that. But I think Barney's at least earned the right for you to be honest with him. He's been honest with you." Ted laughed and shook his head. "Wow, guess I can cross off number five on my top ten list of things I thought I'd never say."

Robin actually laughed at that, and it was good to hear. Hanging out with both her and Barney lately, though separately of course, Ted had felt the clouds hanging over them both. And that kind of gloom didn't become either of his friends. "No kidding," Robin said. "But you're right. I guess maybe I should..."

"Should?" Ted prodded gently, knowing Robin might need it. He had a sense he was only fanning a flame that already existed rather than causing his own spark.

"Answer his question," Robin replied, looking away for a moment. It seemed like her mind was racing and she was doing that completely internal processing thing. Ted was proven right when she suddenly jumped up, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then crouched down to put on her shoes. "I've gotta go."

Ted almost asked where she was going, but he knew. He almost asked what she was going to say, but knew that in all likelihood, she had no idea. No conscious idea anyway. Her brain and heart had never been great at communicating. It was like they spoke different languages. He watched her throwing her shoes on. She looked shaky, disheveled, unsure. And for the first time, the involuntary thought sprang to Ted's mind - _she and Barney are perfect for each other. _But it wasn't an idealized vision, like Marshall and Lily might have had. It wasn't a wish for romantic versions of them to play out. It was a feeling about Barney and Robin. Neurotic, repressed, fun-loving, slightly insane, vulgar, impulsive. Caring. He saw the full picture. And in that moment Ted realized it was simply God's honest truth. He could only hold his breath as he followed Robin out of her room and to the doorway.

Because still he knew, even if people were perfect for each other, it didn't always mean the feelings were there. Whatever Robin felt, she had to be honest about it. Because doing otherwise would only hurt Barney more in the end. Lily was at least right about that. "Robin," he said, stopping her just as she was opening the door to leave. She turned to look at him questioningly. "Just... be honest, okay? Mostly with yourself. _You_ deserve that honesty, too."

She gave him a small smile. "Thanks Ted," she said genuinely. "Sorry if I turned your world inside out with the whole 'Barney being nice and not making a move' image."

"It's a paradigm shift," Ted admitted, "And it's going to take a while to wrap my head around. But in a good way." He smiled. "Now get out of here Scherbatsky," he intoned in a voice nearly resembling a coach. "Go have a kick-ass, hardcore heart to heart."

"Oh please, Ted" Robin replied dismissively. "Heart to heart or hockey, it doesn't matter. Hardcore is the only way I play."


	16. Chapter 16

**Note: **I can't explain how sorry I am for this huge gap between updates, especially at a critical point where the story is nearly over. I had some medical problems along with moving and starting grad school, and those kept me from doing much in the way of writing. Fortunately I'm back now and can finish this story! Thanks for your continued support.

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Chesterton's Bar was all wrong. The entrance was in the wrong place, the bartender was a chick, and there was no booth waiting for him. But it was close to Barney's apartment, convenient. It was no MacLaren's. Which was kind of the point. He needed a place to suck down some gin martinis in peace, but without feeling as much like an alcoholic as he would if he were drinking them at home. And Barney had discovered in his few days of coming here that he could drink here without being bothered. It was a sports bar, so there were very few women around to pester him. The fact that those words had just crossed his mind reminded him how much worse he was doing than he was letting on.

The crowds in the bar tonight had their eyes fixed on some game or match or whatever. Barney didn't really care. He was just glad it gave him a chance to stand off to the side and sip his drink quietly. The room was a little hazy in his mind, and he was actually feeling kind of tired. And okay, part of that was he wasn't sure if this was his third or fourth martini, which probably meant it was his fifth. But he'd had a long evening in the perfect hell - outside, picking up trash, in New Jersey. As he twirled the glass around on the bar, Barney noticed the dirt under his fingernails. He made a face of utter disgust and a half-gagging noise. God, what a nightmare. He sucked down the rest of his drink to try to erase the image.

Barney was in the midst of considering whether to turn in or continue enjoying himself. If that's what you could call it. He had a little island here to himself, anyway. That had to count for something positive. As long as he didn't spend the time _thinking_.

Barney realized someone was interrupting this little escape of his before his slightly addled mind could process the particulars. Someone said something to him about a hundred dollars and it took a while for him to fulfill the prediction by turning around to face Robin Scherbatsky. Barney's cheeks were a little flushed, his brain working kind of sluggishly. But it was suddenly as if someone had dunked his head in a bucket of ice. If he'd been holding his glass, it might have shattered on the floor about the time Robin sheepishly said, "Wow?"

All of his rambling thoughts came screeching to a halt, leaving Barney to simply stare in a mixture of shame and horror. He couldn't get out any variation of the words 'what are you doing here', but Robin got the picture anyway. She shifted, her normally confident expression melting. Barney wasn't sure what to make of that.

"Hey," Robin said sheepishly, seemingly unable to think of anything more.

"Really?" he asked, incredulous but not exactly angry. In fact, his tone came out almost amused. Because he had to laugh at the absurdity. Otherwise he might start breaking things instead. "That's all you've got? Because I hate to break it to you, but if you were counting on me for topics of conversation, I'm out. I've said everything." Barney drummed his fingers on the bar and looked around in a forced manner. "Not to mention, I'm here with this Asian chick who's out at the bathroom right now, so if you could refrain from cramping my style, that would be awesome."

Robin could clearly see right through the lie, judging by the twinge of sympathy that ran across her face. She at least had the decency not to call him on it. Instead, her expression turned inward, almost nervous. "Look, I know I don't deserve to be heard out, but I wouldn't be here if it weren't for your good. I don't want to keep saying and doing things that hurt you."

He eyed her warily. He'd begun to realize that he might not be able to read her all that well, but anyone spotting Robin Scherbatsky looking nervous would know something was amiss. After all, this was the ice queen, Barney thought a little bitterly. "Fine," he said in resignation. "Say what you need to, just... quick." Like pulling off a bandaid. She could at least grant him that mercy.

"I'll try, but," Robin said slowly, "there's kind of a lot to apologize for."

Barney's eyebrows flicked up almost imperceptibly at the word 'apologize'. "Well," he said, sounding as relieved as he felt, "it's good to know you're not here with salt."

She looked pained. Not insulted or indignant, but guilty. "Of course not. I never meant to hurt you with anything I said or did. And I guess it's important to me that you know that because I don't want you to think I'm a hateful person. Which is totally selfish." She rubbed a hand over one eye. Clearly, this wasn't going as smoothly for her as reading from a teleprompter. "My point is, it hurts. It hurts that I know I hurt you, because I care about you, Barney."

"Okay," Barney said slowly. As he did, he turned around and leaned on the bar, folding his arms in front of himself. It was meant to look impatient, which he was. But it also made him feel slightly less vulnerable. He was barely managing facing her as it was. "So why then?"

"I'm just," Robin shrugged as she looked down at her hands as if they were suddenly very interesting. Which Barney agreed, they were. Dammit! How could he still be thinking sentimentally about this woman right now. He needed another drink. How dare she kill his buzz.

"You're...?" Barney asked, impatient with his treacherous mind as much as her faltering speech.

"Nervous. And worried, I guess." She finally looked back up at him. "I pretend to like adventure, new challenges, but honestly, I kind of hate change."

Barney would have smirked victoriously if he'd felt any sense of confidence at all. Because he knew that about her. "I remember the Argentina disaster."

"Right," she said, drawing a breath. "Exactly. It seems like a great idea to just forge out into new territory, but then maybe it's uncharted for a reason. Maybe you haven't gone there yet because it's not a good place to go." Robin bit her lip, then took the plunge from abstract to personal. "The thing is, this was safe." She pointed between herself and Barney. "Consistent. And I don't have a lot of that in my life. So suddenly having to think about it changing, it freaked me out. Because I thought I was getting what I wanted out of our relationship. It didn't seem like a good idea to risk changing that."

At first, it didn't sound like a very promising little speech to Barney. She was just pointing out a huge hurdle he was already aware of in her extreme fear of change. Personally, Barney really was one for risk and adventure. Although typically that involved endeavors like licking monuments, not courting some chick. "So wait," Barney said, realizing something as his slow-moving brain processed how she'd just spoken. "You're saying this past-tense. So either you've forgotten basic English grammar... or something's different."

Robin looked like a kid who'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Clearly she wasn't achieving the subtlety she'd hoped. She should have remembered that he was Barney Stinson, and he could read the crap out of women. Something was up with this whole thing. She wasn't dodging and defending the way she had in their last several conversations. "Fine," she said, sounding indignant, and he almost smiled in satisfaction. Almost. "Yes. It's just, I've been thinking some. You've obviously spent a lot of time thinking this over, this... the stuff that's happened between us."

_If by 'thinking it over' you mean obsessing about every detail of all our time together, then yes_, Barney thought. But all he said was a wry, "Well, really, I've always been the thinker here."

Robin looked surprised to hear him making a small joke. But pleasantly so. A smirk creased the edge of her mouth. "Trust me, I see the irony. Mr 'Act First, Think Later'. But you know, I just hadn't thought about it."

His face fell, and he glanced away. Of course he knew at this point that Robin hadn't been secretly pining for him at the same time in a neat little romantic comedy sort of way. It still stung to hear it brought up, even if she was just trying to be straight with him. "I know," he said, quietly.

"But Barney, look," she said, and she must have meant it, because she stared at him deliberately until he was forced to make eye contact again. "You don't get it. And I didn't, either. Because you know what I've realized? The only things I don't think about, I mean the things my mind makes a heroic effort to keep completely out of my thoughts, are things that really matter. And that could be, I don't know... threatening?" Robin was starting to revert to the uncertain tone from before. As she began rambling, Barney could only remain silent and listen. "So I didn't think about it. About us, or whatever. But the fact that I wasn't thinking about it is like, the same thing as a thinking about it for a normal person. It means that it means something to me. Because if it didn't, I would have just thought about it and dismissed it. Instead I just never thought about it. I tossed all possibility of thinking about it out with you... you know?"

His brow furrowed for a moment as he looked down at the expression of pained confusion on her face. This wasn't exactly the most straight-forward conversation, and he got the impression even she didn't quite know where it was going. Barney should have been more angry. Should have just shouted for her to get to the point, because just breathing the same air as her was suffocating. Because he was holding it together, but was starting to fidget in a need to bolt. But dammit if Robin wasn't adorable when she was flustered. It was enough to keep him from storming out angrily. How the hell did she do that? "Uh, sure," he replied slowly. "Okay, actually, despite the fact that what you just said makes no sense, I get it."

"Maybe you could explain it to me, then, because I'm not sure I do," Robin replied, sinking onto a bar stool.

"Robin," Barney cautioned. He might have more patience for her than others, but that still wasn't saying much. Not to mention, his current reservoir of will power was draining as quickly as his drinks had tonight. He didn't want to snap again.

"Right, sorry," Robin said, holding up both hands in an 'I know' kind of gesture. "I promise there's a point to all of this. I wouldn't come here just to torture you. I hope you know that." He didn't really feel like he knew that, and his expression must have said so, because Robin blanched a little. "God, I'm sorry. I have caused you so much trouble this last year. And I could claim ignorance, but the truth is that even if I didn't know how you felt about me, I knew what I was doing hurt you anyway."

Barney looked at her, then down at his tumbler as he raised it to his lips. He made a face as he took a sip. Was it just him, or was this thing suddenly more tart? Weren't drinks supposed to taste _better_ after you'd had a few? This conversation was sobering him up, and he wasn't sure he was okay with that. "Whatev, it's no big deal," he said with an unconvincing shrug. He just wanted her to cut to the chase and be done with it.

But Robin was apparently determined to draw this out as long as humanly possible. She wasn't normally one to talk at all, but sometimes personal things just came out of her like a flood. Barney had witnessed it before. He tried not to think about how that night had ended. It was too cruel to even imagine inviting the comparison. Still, Robin wasn't giving up. "But it is a big deal, Barney." He shifted, uncomfortable with the fact that hearing her say his name sparked something inside him. "I let you take the fall for things that were my fault, too. And even after everything, I was going to do it again..."

Now she had his full attention. He stared at her carefully, trying to determine what was behind all this. The last time they'd spoken, she'd been acting like none of this stuff between them was real. Now she was confessing to... what, exactly?

His answer came without his having to ask. Robin was actually biting her lip, an action well outside her normal calm demeanor. But even more seriously, she _stared_ at him, in the way people do when they want you to meet their eyes. He'd rather not look back, but finally he gave in. When their eyes met, she worked up the courage to say, "I told Ted the truth."

"The truth," he echoed, a little lost in the fact that he was gazing into Robin's eyes from just a few feet away. An instinct in his mind told him he should totally be seducing this hot chick right now. All the gin coursing through his veins agreed. But the small remainder of his sanity kept him glued in place and his lips sewn shut.

"I told him about that night. The..." her voice lowered, "Sandcastles night."

Barney's eyes widened in surprise, and a little bit of panic. "You told him about the video?"

"No," Robin corrected quickly. Barney wasn't sure why that relieved him so much. Really, he should be dying to share such a great piece of blackmail with his friends. But somehow it felt too private. Like their little secret. "No, I didn't say anything about the video or the song. But I told him, you know. The truth." She clearly didn't want to explain herself, but Barney was still so surprised that she'd said anything about it at all that he needed this to be crystal clear. So he kept looking at her expectantly until she sighed and said quietly, "I told him that I was the one who invited you to my place." Robin began lacing her fingers together, fidgeting. "And that I... kissed you. That it wasn't you tricking me. That I kind of... took the lead."

Barney barely controlled the urge to grin wickedly. Because oh, he remembered. His natural urge to make a dirty joke quickly diminished, however, when what she was saying sunk in. There was that sobering again. Shit, he needed another drink. "Wow, so you..." he looked down, picking at nothing in particular on the bar surface. "You told Ted that?"

"Yeah. But I should have told him a long time ago." She met his eyes as he looked back up, and for the first time, Barney realized just how pained she looked. It startled him. Maybe it was just a 'admitting I was wrong is like pulling teeth' expression. But it didn't look like it. Maybe he was crazy, but Barney could have sworn Robin's expression was one of empathy. He became more sure as she continued. "The stuff that happened between you guys was my fault. I mean, I know it was both our faults, but I should have said something. And honestly I was kind of expecting you to stand up for yourself and say something. Then you didn't. And I didn't understand why. Although now I guess I do." She gave him an almost apologetic smile, as if she were sorry to be bringing up his recent loss of awesome and emotional outpourings. As if either of them had forgotten.

"Right, that..." he said, his fingers involuntarily tightening their grip on his now-empty glass. His whole body was seizing up. He had absolutely nothing left to say on the matter that he hadn't already. Barney had poured himself dry. And Robin _still_ hadn't had the decency to close that wound up. "Just... don't. I can't... If I say anything, it'll just sound even lamer than before." He leaned against the bar for support as he turned himself around to face the bartender. "Can I get another gin martini here?" he asked, his nerves starting to kick into full gear. Barney leaned his elbows on the bar and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Barney..." her voice was so full of pity it made him snap. Because he didn't want her pity. He wanted something very different.

"Look, just stop," he said quietly, taking a sip of his fresh drink. It emboldened him a little, and he looked over at her with tired eyes. "I know you came here because you felt sorry that you hurt my feelings. And really, I appreciate that you told Ted the truth. That means a lot. You're a," Barney drew a breath and was still barely able to get out the words, "good friend. And that's awesome. And I'm okay with that." Barney forced a weak smile, his lips clamped together tightly to keep the bile that was rising in his throat from coming out.

He couldn't quite see Robin's expression, but her sharp tone surprised him. "What, that's it? After the whole ultimatum about me answering you or else?"

Barney didn't have the energy to sigh. He remained leaning on his elbows, only his eyes moving to look up at her. "I already got my answer. It should have been clear by now. It is. I won't make you say it. I mean, a guy should probably be able to take a hint. I got an answer a long time ago, I was just too stupid to pay attention. Probably should have known somewhere around 'I'm gonna take a shower until June'." Catching the mortified look on Robin's face, he quickly added, "Don't worry about it. That's how any smart, sane woman would feel. Which is why I don't generally make a habit of going home with people like that. Stupid chicks are way less complicated." He mustered what remained of his energy to stand up and face her. Gesturing with his glass casually, he added, "You've had a shitty year. You deserve a stable, absurdly tanned foreigner like Alistair. Even if he is a mind-reading douchebag." Barney couldn't keep the grumbling edge out of his tone. "So now maybe we can just never talk about this again and save us both a lot of embarrassment."

"Stop it," Robin replied quietly.

"Stop what?" he asked quizzically.

"Feeling like I'm ashamed of you," Robin pleaded, and one look at her let him know she was oddly disturbed by the way he'd been talking.

He wasn't sure why. He was just doing his best to say what neither of them had had the courage to yet. Barney just stared at Robin, confused by her request. "You lost me."

"Dammit, Barney," Robin said, almost literally tearing some hair out as she raked her fingers back over her head. "I can't keep letting you feel like shit just to make things easier on me." When he continued staring back blankly, she started to droop. This talking thing was much harder for her than he'd thought. Frankly, she sucked at it. Finally, she closed her eyes, which must have helped her courage, because then she said, "I was never ashamed of sleeping with you."

"That's not how you acted."

"I know," Robin admitted. "But the things I was embarrassed about were more about me than you." Now it was her turn to look down as though the bar were extremely interesting all of a sudden. "I don't usually make a habit of crying in public. And then to have my most unemotional friend see that." She looked up with a slight smile. "Honestly, it kind of made it worse. Except that you understood. Which felt like it came out of nowhere. I mean, you gotta admit, Barney, you don't exactly advertise yourself as a shoulder to cry on."

"Hey, getting salt water on my suits is a serious issue," Barney replied.

To his delight, that made Robin smile. It seemed to break through some haze around her for a moment. And that, he realized, was exactly what he'd done on That Night, too. Maybe Robin had the same realization, because she quietly studied him for a moment before shaking her head and saying, "See, I don't get you. You confused the hell out of me." She took a breath, looking like she was about to cross some bridge she'd have to burn behind her. Finally, she eyed him seriously and said, "Honestly, I've realized that if some random guy had been there for me like that, had cheered me up and gone home with me like you did... I probably would have wanted to see him again."

Barney wasn't quite sure what to say to that. It sounded like a backhanded compliment. He turned his shoulders to look at Robin directly as he twirled his glass around on the bar. Chewing the inside of his cheek for a moment, Barney tried to temper his response. "So it doesn't matter what I do, how I act. It's just me that's the problem." His tone bordered on angry, but his eyes probably betrayed how much that hurt.

"God, that's not what I meant!" Robin corrected, starting to sound exasperated with herself, or him, or maybe both of them. "There's nothing wrong with you. All the weird stuff about you, even the slightly gross stuff... it doesn't bother me. Not like it does the others. Maybe it should, but it just doesn't." Barney eyed her carefully, and could tell she was telling the truth. Which didn't really surprise him, but still made him feel better. "It's just that you're my friend, and then there's Ted, and the fact that you never previously showed any signs of wanting to be in a relationship."

That phrasing still freaked Barney out a little, and he stuttered, "Whoa, I'm not sure I'd exactly... in so many words..."

"See?" Robin said, raising an eyebrow triumphantly and waving at him emphatically. "This is just part of why I immediately ruled out the possibility. It just wasn't ever going to go anywhere, for so many reasons. So there was no reason to drive myself crazy thinking about it." She shrugged. "So I didn't. And who in their right mind would have guessed you'd wind up being the sensitive thinker here."

Barney had to smile through gritted teeth at that. "Yeah, well, I wasn't too happy about that, either. I swear my brain got knocked around my head too much when that bus hit me. It's like it's been shorting out all year." He leaned forward and banged his head on the bar, surprisingly hard. Okay, that didn't help his growing headache. But the alcohol and destruction of his nerves was destroying his muscle control, apparently.

When Robin spoke, her voice was tentative, like she was speculating on something possible instead of confessing to something. "It happens. To me, I mean." Barney glanced up at her with one eye. "Not in the way it does to you, I guess. But I don't know, Barney. When you've been that... intimate with someone, it's hard not to let it change how you see them. I mean, I've always thought, 'Barney is fun'. But now sometimes also 'Barney is sweet'." He could have sworn she almost smiled at that, but it might have been his imagination. He lifted his head off the wooden surface, craning his neck up. "And, on occasion," Robin waved a hand as if it were nothing, "I'll think 'Barney is sexy.'" Now he was sitting straight up again, and he couldn't help the slightly smug smile that crept onto his face. But it was tentative. Because just as quickly as she could build him up, he knew she could smash him to pieces again once she got to her point. So he waited. "And a lot of times when I've been thinking about the kind of guy I wanted to start dating, I think 'I want a fun, sweet, sexy guy.' But I've never made the connection. It's like I've felt it but never thought it because it wasn't a safe thought. You know?"

The crazy thing was, he did. As little sense as Robin was making, as much rambling as she was doing, he knew exactly the feelings she was describing. Even though she herself probably hadn't had time to process them yet. But he knew. Deep in his gut, he felt a sense of recognition churning. Because the way she was talking, the thought process she was spilling out... that was exactly how he'd argued with himself a year ago. And beyond, if he was being honest. It made Barney's eyes widen in the tiniest bit of hope. But what the hell was Robin going to do with this tangled knot of feelings? Dive in and try to sort it out, or just cut her losses and run? "So," Barney started slowly, guardedly. "What exactly are you saying. I'm sorry if I seem slow, but my alcohol to sleep ratio is kind of high." A good enough excuse, he thought, for being paralyzed and shaken to his core in Robin Scherbatsky's presence.

Robin shifted on her bar stool, opening and closing her mouth several times. She looked suddenly overwhelmed, as though she hadn't expected to have to confront anything head-on. Though if she didn't, what the hell had she come here for? For a moment, Barney was terrified she was going to pull out more vague denials and cryptic comments, and leave him without an answer once again. If she did, he was pretty sure that was it. The end of his tenuous sanity.

Barney was a mess of nerves by the time Robin finally worked up the courage to give her equivalent of a direct response. Throwing her hands up, she practically exclaimed, "I'm saying the answer's yes."

"Yes," Barney repeated, as if it were the strangest sounding word in the English language.

"Yes," Robin replied, clearing her throat. "To... you know. Your question. About the..." she pointed between herself and Barney, then forced herself to look at him, with his dumbfounded expression and all. "You're right that you deserved an answer and I did know what you were getting at. And mostly I hadn't thought about it, but part of me apparently had because it keeps shouting at me that it makes perfect sense, this thing. That I should try. That I do..." she couldn't manage to say anything, and instead just raised her eyebrows at him meaningfully. "So yeah. Yes."

Technically, the room wasn't spinning. Technically it was just a trick of his brain, of shock mixed with drinks and sleep deprivation. But Barney had never felt so damned sure that things actually were moving. He didn't just feel the shift, he saw it. And for a moment, he felt dizzy and lost. His jaw was loose, his lips dry. Everything he'd been so sure of, the answer he'd been waiting to put him out of his misery, none of it had happened. In fact, here was Robin presenting him with the exact opposite option. Barney's heart slowly climbed up hand over hand into his throat, making it hard to talk. Finally, his eyes refocused on Robin and he croaked out, "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. I wouldn't joke about that," Robin replied, this time able to stare him down evenly. At least one of them had found a footing finally. "I think we should," she waved as if the gesture could complete her words. But Barney's brain was moving through molasses, and she must have seen he needed something more direct to cut through the sludge. "We should go out sometime. Soon."

Barney blinked a few time to process what she'd said. Once it dawned on him, he couldn't help the sloppy grin that crept onto his face. He would normally have preferred a wry smirk, but the boyish joy was irrepressible. "Scherbatsky, are you asking me on a _date_?"

Robin blushed a little, which she clearly resented because she quickly covered it with a cough and eye roll. "Uh yeah, obviously," she tried to sound confident, nonchalant. It was about as fake as his own efforts. "Thought that was clear after everything I just said."

He almost laughed. "Robin, I don't think 'clear' would describe anything in this conversation except my gin." Barney held up his half-empty sixth tumbler, then frowned. "And even then, it's got like these whispy oily things in it. Hmm..."

"Dude!" Robin exclaimed, loud enough to surprise both of them and make them jump. "Focus."

"Right," Barney said, blinking some more. "I just, uh... I kind of can't believe this."

"Oh please," Robin replied. "Robin Scherbatsky decided she wanted something, and she gets it. End of story."

He grinned. "That I can believe." His expression grew a little more serious, or awed one might say. As he studied Robin's beautiful visage, he could have sworn that all the tightness and edginess in her expression had melted away. Or maybe it was just a projection of his own feelings. Because something inside was uncoiling, loosening its grip on his chest. It was only then that it really hit him. Robin was asking him on a date. After everything he'd done, what he'd said, how she'd reacted, here she was. Saying there was something there. Barney nodded slowly. "So, a date."

"Yep," she replied. "But I get to choose what we do."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Do you get to decide how many times we do it?"

"Barney," she warned, but it didn't sound offended. Not really. And it suddenly dawned on him that what she'd said was true; she really didn't care as much as the others about his tasteless jokes. She never had. Because she was Robin Scherbatsky, and she was awesome.

But there was also something else. A distinct redness creeping up her cheeks towards her ears. Barney couldn't help but smirk. "Why Robin Scherbatsky, I believe you are blushing." Her cheeks got redder; his grin got wider. "You totally are. It's okay. I have this power over a lot of women." He took a satisfied sip of his gin, suddenly filled with giddiness he hadn't felt in a decade.

But Robin's coyness turned on a dime. Her expression went from school girl to seductress in a split second. She slid off her bar stool and stepped closer to him, positioning one leg on either side of his, allowing them to stand with their chests touching. Barney's stomach dropped like a rock, but in the good way for once. A _really_ good way. Robin leaned her face up to within inches of his and said, lowly, "And how many women exactly have this power over _you_?"

His body's reaction to her proximity was one thing. Everything suddenly turned from hazy to sharp. Whatever rushed through his veins was clearly stronger than alcohol, because he was suddenly stone cold sober. He couldn't breathe, which made the whole thinking thing tough.

But the _feeling_ thing - that underdeveloped part of him, the part only recently woken from hibernation - was going crazy. Sure, he'd felt his pulse rush at a beautiful woman's proximity more times than he could remember. But he could count on two fingers the number of women who had ever made his world come to a halt. As fast as his hormones were racing, everything seemed to be moving very slowly. His life - or at least the last year of it - flashed before his eyes. All the things he loved. The things he loved about _her_. She was just as bad as a bus, shattering him to his core. Forcing him to heal into something new.

Robin's proximity, her seductive expression, the low growl in her voice... none of it made his pulse race nearly as much as that one word slowed his heart to a stop- yes.

Barney swallowed, his whole body relaxing in a way that seemed completely contrary to everything he thought he knew about hot chicks rubbing against him. His hands reached out gently, almost against his will, and cupped Robin's face. They were steady as a rock. She blinked in surprise, the playfulness giving way to something indescribable passing between them. How many women had this power over him, indeed. "Only you, Robin," Barney said quietly.

It was only a split second. Only a moment of them looking at each other with complete honesty, and of him seeing that she meant it. By God, she actually meant it. That second was enough to last Barney a lifetime.

The second after that, their lips crashed together in a flurry and the world sped up again.


End file.
